LIBRARY 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 


PRESENTED  BY 

Mr.    H.    H.    KM  iani 


UCSB  LIBRARY 


H.    DE    BALZAC 


THE    COMEDIE    HUMAINE 


A    WOMAN    WAS   SITTING   IN    A    LARGE   EASY   CHAIR   BY   ONE 

OF    THE    WINDOWS. 


H.    DE     BALZAC 


THE 


QUESTOF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

(LA  RECHERCHE  DE  L'ABSOLU) 

AND  OTHER  STORIES 


TRANSLATED    BY 


ELLEN    MARRIAGE 


WITH   A   PBEFACE  BY 


GEORGE    SAINTSBURY 


PHILADELPHIA 

THE  GEBBIE  PUBLISHING  Co.,  Ltd 
1897 


CONTENTS. 

PACK 

PREFACE ix 

THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE  i 
THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE 

I.    GILLETTE 223 

II.   CATHERINE   LESCAULT 244 

CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS 255 

MELMOTH  RECONCILED 276 

THE  RED  HOUSE 331 

I.   THE   IDEA   AND  THE  DEED                 335 

II.   THE   DOUBLE  RETRIBUTION 359 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


A    WOMAN    WAS    SITTING    IN    A    LARGE    EASY-CHAIR    BY    ONE    OF 

THE  WINDOWS Frontispiece 

?AGB 

HE  TOOK   UP   MME.   CLAES  AT   ONCE    IN    HIS    ARMS      .      .      .      AND 

SPRANG  UP  THE  STAIRCASE 55 

SHE  TURNED,   WITH  A  SWAN-LIKE  MOVEMENT   OF    HER    THROAT, 

TO  GLANCE  ONCE  MORE  AT  EMMANUEL  ....      104 

THE  OLDER   MAN      .      .      .      KNOCKED  THRICE  AT  THE   DOOR  .      225 

THE    FORGER    SAW    A    MAN    STANDING    AT    THE    LITTLE    GRATED 

WINDOW  282 


PREFACE. 

i 

THE  volume  of  the  old  edition  of  the  "  Comedie  Humaine," 
which  opened  with  "The  Quest  of  the  Absolute,"  together 
with  that  generally  entitled  "The  Maranas,"  contains  the 
cream  and  flower  of  Balzac  as  a  story-teller ;  and  the  first  ex- 
cels the  second  in  showing  the  fiery  heat  and  glow  of  the 
author's  imagination.  Its  principal  constituent,  the  title 
story,  is  large  enough  for  a  novel  by  itself.  The  chief  of  the 
minor  elements,  "The  Unknown  Masterpiece,"  has  seemed 
to  some  the  actual  masterpiece  of  the  author.  "Jesus-Christ 
en  Flandre,"  like  some  others  of  Balzac's  short  stories,  inti- 
mates an  intention  in  him  of  emulating  the  contes  fantastiques , 
half-humorous  and  half-romantic,  half- Voltairian  and  half- 
mystical,  which  were  so  much  in  favor  in  1830.  It  is,  I  think, 
quite  the  best  of  them,  and  it  shows  its  author's  great  manner 
in  more  points  than  one.  But  just  as  at  the  end  of  "  L' Elixir 
de  longue  Vie"  we  want  the  touch  of  Hoffmann  rather  than 
that  of  Balzac ;  so  here  we  find  something  that  is  not  quite 
perfect,  that  wants  another  hand.  Even  as  it  is,  we  would  not 
change  for  anything  else,  but  we  have  the  sense  that  the  same 
thing  by  another  person  might  have  been  even  better.  "  Mel- 
moth  reconcilie,"  an  inferior  thing  in  itself,  has  in  the  same 
way  a  sort  of  special  and  adventitious  interest. 

I  do  not  know  that  I  admire  "  The  Red  House  "  quite  so 
much  as  some  of  the  other  contents  of  the  volume.  It  has 
interest ;  and  it  may  be  observed  that,  as  indicating  the  origin 
of  Taillefer's  wealth,  it  connects  itself  with  the  general  scheme 
of  the  "  Comedie,"  as  few  of  the  others  do.  But  it  is  an  at- 

(ix) 


x  PREFACE, 

tempt,  like  one  or  two  others  of  Balzac's,  at  a  style  very  popular 
in  1830,  a  sort  of  combination  of  humor  and  terror,  of  Sterne 
and  Monk  Lewis,  which  is  a  little  doubtful  in  itself,  which 
has  very  rarely  been  done  well,  and  for  which  he  himself  was 
not  quite  completely  equipped. 

But  "The  Quest  of  the  Absolute"  is,  as  has  been  said,  a 
novel  in  itself.  Taking  minor  points  only,  it  is  a  masterpiece. 
That  there  is  a  certain  parallelism,  probably  unconscious,  be- 
tween the  way  in  which  Balthazar  Claes  as  unconsciously  kills 
his  wife  and  the  way  in  which  Monsieur  Grandet  kills  his,  is 
certainly  no  drawback  to  the  book ;  for  the  repetition,  if  it  is 
a  repetition,  only  shows  how  genius  can  repeat.  Indeed, 
there  is  the  same  demonstration  contained  in  the  same  books 
in  the  representation  of  the  diverse  martyrdoms  of  Madame 
Claes  and  her  daughter  Marguerite,  fatal  in  the  former  case, 
happily  changed  in  the  latter.  In  no  book  is  Balzac's  faculty 
of  Dutch  drawing,  as  far  as  scenes  and  details  go,  more  bril- 
liantly shown  ;  in  none  are  the  minor  characters — from  the 
famulus  Le  Mulquinier,  with  his  fatal  belief  in  his  master's 
madness,  downwards — better ;  while  Marguerite  Claes  and  her 
mother,  especially  Marguerite,  are  by  common  consent  to  be 
ranked  among  Balzac's  greatest  triumphs  in  portraying 
"  honest  women." 

But  these  things,  though  they  illustrate  the  general  principle 
that  the  presence  of  a  great  central  interest  and  figure  will 
radiate  greatness  and  interest  on  its  surroundings,  would  con- 
tribute comparatively  little  to  the  effect  of  the  book  if  it  were 
not  for  the  seeker  after  the  absolute  himself.  Nowhere,  per- 
haps, has  the  hopeless  tyranny  of  the  fixed  idea,  the  ferocious 
(not  exactly  selfish)  absorption  in  the  pursuit  of  a  craze,  been 
portrayed  with  quite  the  same  power  as  here.  And  we  know 
and  feel  that  the  energy,  the  fire,  the  perfection  of  the  hand- 
ling are  due  to  sympathy — that  Balzac  a  few  generations  earlier 
would  have  sought  the  Philosopher's  Stone  with  the  same  des- 
perate energy  as  Balthazar.  Probably  nothing  but  his  prior 


PREFACE.  xl 

attachment  to  literary  work  prevented  him  from  doing  some- 
thing similar;  while  actually,  as  it  was,  he  kept  himself  in 
lifelong  difficulties  by  no  very  different  persistence  in  the  cor- 
responding, if  more  ignoble,  game  of  speculation. 

I  have  just  said  that  the  tyranny  of  the  ideal  has  nowhere 
been  more  successfully  portrayed  than  in  "  The  Quest  of  the 
Absolute ; ' '  but  there  is  perhaps  one  exception,  and  it  is 
"The  Unknown  Masterpiece,"  which  should  be  carefully 
compared  with  the  larger  fiction.  The  attraction  of  this  won- 
derful and  terrible  piece  for  all  who  have  anything  to  do  with 
the  things  of  the  spirit,  whether  in  the  way  of  criticism  or  in 
the  way  of  creation,  can  hardly  be  exaggerated.  I  remember 
many  years  ago  spending  half  an  evening  in  discussing,  in  a 
sort  of  amoebean  strain,  its  merits  with  the  late  Mr.  Steven- 
son ;  and  everybody  knows  the  compliment  which  a  distin- 
guished American  writer  has  paid  it  by  attempting  a  sort  of 
paraphrase  of  its  original.  The  same  interest  is  present  here 
and  in  "The  Quest,"  but  it  is  a  little  complicated,  a  little 
refined  upon.  Here,  too,  there  is  the  sorcery  of  the  ideal, 
the  frenzied  passion  for  attainment  and  perfection.  But  here 
there  is  a  special  nuance  almost  as  closely  connected  with 
Balzac's  individuality  as  the  general  scheme.  We  know  that 
the  mania  of  constant  retouching,  of  adding  strokes,  was  a 
danger  of  his  own ;  that  he  did  actually  indulge  in  it  to  an 
extent  very  prejudicial  to  his  pecuniary  interest,  and  perhaps 
not  always  advantageous  to  the  effect  of  his  work,  though  the 
artist  in  words  is  hardly  exposed  to  any  such  absolutely  hope- 
less catastrophe  in  such  a  case  as  is  the  artist  in  line  and 
color. 

Yet,  wonderful  as  this  is,  it  cannot  in  its  limited  space,  and 
with  its  intensely  concentrated  interest,  vie  with  the  ampli- 
tude, the  variety,  the  dignity  of  "  The  Quest."  Balzac  might 
have  made  this  too  long :  he  was  not  always  proof  against  that 
temptation.  But  in  it,  as  in  "  Eugenie  Grandet,"  with  which 
it  has  been  already  compared,  he  has  hit  the  exact  mean  be- 


xii  PREFACE. 

tween  a  short  tale  and  a  long  novel,  has  not  sinned  by  digres- 
sion and  episode,  has  hardly  sinned  by  undue  indulgence  in 
detail.  The  interest  is  perhaps  remoter  from  the  general 
human  understanding  than  that  of  "Eugenie"  and  one  or  two 
others.  But  it  is  handled  with  equal  mastery,  and  the  effect 
is  at  least  equally  good. 

It  is  not,  of  course,  that  a  knowledge  of  Balzac's  own  pecu- 
liarities adds  anything  to  the  sense  of  the  artistic  eminence 
of  these  two  stories.  That  would  be  clear  if  we  knew  nothing 
whatever  about  the  other  part  of  the  matter.  But  it  cannot 
be  regarded  as  uninteresting  that  we  should  thus  know  the 
secret  of  the  furia,  the  "nobler  gust"  of  sympathy  and  en- 
joyment with  which  the  writer,  consciously  or  unconsciously, 
must  have  set  about  these  two  great  and,  in  his  own  work, 
almost  incomparable  things. 

"The  Quest  of  the  Absolute  "  appeared  in  1834,  with  seven 
chapter-divisions,  as  a  "Scene  de  la  vie  privee  ;  "  was  pub- 
lished by  itself  in  1839  by  Charpentier;  and  took  its  final 
place  as  a  part  of  the  "Com£die"  in  1845. 

G.  S. 


THE  QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

To  Madame  Josephine  Delannoy,  nee  Doumerc. 

Madame,  may  God  grant  that  this,  my  book,  may  live 
longer  than  I,  for  then  the  gratitude  which  I  owe  to 

you,  and  which  I  hope  will  equal  your  almost  maternal 
kindness  to  me,  would  last  beyond  the  limits  prescribed 

for  human  affection.  This  sublime  privilege  of  pro- 
longing the  life  in  our  hearts  for  a  time  by  the  life  of 
the  work  we  leave  behind  us  would  be  (if  we  could 
only  be  sure  of  gaining  it  at  last}  a  reward  indeed 

for  all  the  labor  undertaken  by  those  who  aspire  to 
such  an  immortality.  Yet  again  I  say — May  God 
grant  it ! 

De  Balzac. 

THERE  is  in  Douai,  in  the  Rue  de  Paris,  a  house  that  may 
be  singled  out  from  all  others  in  the  city ;  for  in  every  re- 
spect, in  its  outward  appearance,  in  its  interior  arrangements, 
and  in  every  detail,  it  is  a  perfect  example  of  an  old  Flemish 
building,  and  preserves  all  the  characteristics  of  a  quaint 
style  of  domestic  architecture  thoroughly  in  keeping  with  the 
patriarchal  manners  of  the  good  folk  in  the  Low  Countries. 
But  before  proceeding  to  describe  the  house,  it  may  not  be 
wholly  unnecessary  here  to  enter,  on  behalf  of  authors,  a  pro- 
test in  favor  of  those  didactic  preliminaries  for  which  the 
ignorant  and  impatient  reader  has  so  strong  a  dislike.  There 
are  persons  who  crave  sensations,  yet  have  not  patience  to 
submit  to  the  influences  which  produce  them ;  who  would  fain 
have  flowers  without  the  seed,  the  child  without  gestation. 
Art,  it  would  seem,  is  to  accomplish  what  nature  cannot. 

(1) 


2  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

It  so  happens  that  human  life  in  all  its  aspects,  wide  or 
narrow,  is  so  intimately  connected  with  architecture,  that 
with  a  certain  amount  of  observation  we  can  usually  recon- 
struct a  bygone  society  from  the  remains  of  its  public  monu- 
ments. From  relics  of  household  stuff,  we  can  imagine  its 
owners  "  in  their  habit  as  they  lived."  Archaeology,  in  fact, 
is  to  the  body  social  somewhat  as  comparative  anatomy  is  to 
animal  organizations.  A  complete  social  system  is  made  clear 
to  us  by  a  bit  of  mosaic,  just  as  a  whole  past  order  of  things 
is  implied  by  the  skeleton  of  an  ichthyosaurus.  Beholding 
the  cause,  we  guess  the  effect,  even  as  we  proceed  from  the 
effect  to  the  cause,  one  deduction  following  another  until  a 
chain  of  evidence  is  complete,  until  the  man  of  science  raises 
up  a  whole  bygone  world  from  the  dead,  and  discovers  for  us 
not  only  the  features  of  the  past,  but  even  the  warts  upon 
those  features. 

Hence,  no  doubt,  the  prodigious  interest  which  people  take 
in  descriptions  of  architecture  so  long  as  the  writer  keeps  his 
own  idiosyncrasies  out  of  the  text  and  does  not  obscure  the 
facts  with  theories  of  his  own ;  for  every  one,  by  a  simple 
process  of  deduction,  can  call  up  the  past  for  himself  as  he 
reads.  Human  experience  varies  so  little  that  the  past  seems 
strangely  like  the  present ;  and  when  we  learn  what  has  been, 
it  not  seldom  happens  that  we  also  behold  plainly  what  shall 
be  again.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  we  can  seldom  see  a  picture 
or  a  description  of  any  place  wherein  the  current  of  human 
life  has  once  flowed  without  being  put  in  mind  of  our  own 
personal  experience,  our  broken  resolutions,  or  our  blossom- 
ing hopes ;  and  the  contrast  between  the  present,  in  which 
our  heart's  desire  is  never  given  to  us,  and  the  future,  when 
our  wishes  may  be  fulfilled,  is  an  inexhaustible  source  of 
melancholy  or  delightful  musings.  How  is  it  that  Flemish 
art,  with  its  pictures  of  Flemish  life,  makes  an  almost  irre- 
sistible appeal  to  our  feelings  whenever  the  little  details  are 
faithfully  rendered  ?  Perhaps  the  secret  of  the  charm  lies  in 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  3 

this — that  there  seems  less  uncertainty  and  perplexity  in  this 
matter-of-fact  life  than  in  any  other.  Such  art  could  hardly 
exist  without  the  opulent  comfort  which  comes  of  a  prosperity 
of  long  use  and  wont ;  it  depicts  an  existence  peaceful  to  the 
verge  of  beatitude,  with  all  its  complicated  family  ties  and 
domestic  festivals  ;  but  it  is  no  less  the  expression  of  a  tran- 
quillity wellnigh  monotonous,  of  a  prosperity  which  frankly 
finds  its  happiness  in  self-indulgence,  which  has  nothing  left 
to  wish  for,  because  its  every  desire  is  gratified  as  soon  as  it  is 
formed.  Even  passionate  temperaments,  that  measure  the 
force  of  life  by  the  tumult  of  the  soul,  cannot  see  these  placid 
pictures  and  feel  unmoved ;  it  is  only  shallow  people  who 
think  that  because  the  pulse  beats  so  steadily  the  heart  is  cold. 

The  energy  that  expends  itself  in  a  sudden  and  violent 
outbreak  produces  a  far  greater  effect  on  the  popular  imagi- 
nation than  an  equal  force  exerted  slowly  and  persistently. 
The  crowds  have  neither  the  time  nor  the  patience  to  estimate 
an  enormous  power  which  is  uniformly  exerted ;  they  do  not 
reflect  on  appearances ;  they  are  borne  too  swiftly  along  the 
current  of  life  ;  it  is  therefore  only  transcendent  passion  that 
makes  any  impression  upon  them,  and  the  great  artist  is  most 
extolled  when  he  exceeds  the  limits  of  perfection  :  Michel 
Angelo,  Bianca  Cappello,  Mademoiselle  de  la  Valliere,  Bee- 
thoven, Paganini — you  may  pass  their  names  in  review.  It  is 
only  a  rare  and  great  power  which  knows  that  there  must  be 
no  overstepping  of  the  limit  line,  that  sets  in  the  first  place 
that  quality  of  symmetry,  that  completeness  which  stamps  a 
perfect  work  of  art  with  the  profound  repose  which  has  so 
strong  a  charm  for  those  who  are  capable  of  recognizing  it. 
But  the  life  adopted  by  this  practical  people  is  in  all  respects 
the  ideal  life  of  the  citizen  as  conceived  of  by  the  lower 
classes ;  it  is  a  bourgeois  paradise  in  which  nothing  is  lacking 
to  fill  the  measure  of  their  felicity. 

A  highly  refined  materialism  is  the  distinguishing  character- 
istic of  Flemish  life.  There  is  something  dull,  dreary,  and 


4  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

unimaginative  about  English  "  comfort ;  "  but  a  Flemish  inte- 
rior with  its  glowing  colors  is  a  delight  to  the  eyes,  and  there 
is  a  blithe  simplicity  about  the  homeliness  of  Flemish  life  ; 
evidently  the  burden  of  toil  is  not  too  heavily  felt,  and  the 
tobacco-pipe  shows  that  the  Flemings  have  grasped  and  applied 
the  Neapolitan  doctrine  of  far  niente,  while  a  tranquil  appre- 
ciation of  art  and  beauty  in  their  surroundings  is  no  less 
evident.  In  the  temper  of  the  people,  indeed,  there  are  two 
of  the  most  essential  conditions  for  the  cultivation  of  art : 
patience,  and  that  capacity  for  taking  pains  which  is  necessary 
if  the  work  of  the  artist  is  to  live  ;  these  are  pre-eminently 
the  characteristics  of  the  patient  and  painstaking  Fleming. 
The  magical  splendor,  the  subtle  beauty  of  poetry,  are  attain- 
ments impossible  for  patience  and  conscientiousness,  you 
think  ?  Their  life  in  Flanders  must  be  as  monotonously  level 
as  the  lowlands  of  Holland,  and  as  dreary  as  their  clouded 
skies  !  But  it  is  nothing  of  the  kind.  The  power  of  civiliza- 
tion has  been  brought  to  bear  in  every  direction — even  the 
effects  of  the  climate  have  been  modified. 

If  you  notice  the  differences  between  the  products  of  various 
parts  of  the  globe,  it  surprises  you  at  first  that  the  prevailing 
tints  of  the  temperate  zones  should  be  grays  and  tawny- 
browns,  while  the  brilliant  colors  are  confined  to  tropical 
regions — a  natural  law  which  applies  no  less  to  habits  of  life. 
But  Flanders,  with  her  naturally  brown  and  sober  hues,  has 
learned  how  to  brighten  the  naturally  foggy  and  sullen  atmos- 
phere in  the  course  of  many  a  political  revolution.  From  her 
old  lords,  the  Dukes  of  Burgundy,  she  passed  to  the  Kings 
of  Spain  and  France  ;  she  has  been  forced  to  seek  allies  in 
Holland  and  in  Germany,  and  Flemish  life  bears  witness  to 
all  these  changes.  There  are  traces  of  Spanish  dominion  in 
their  lavish  use  of  scarlet,  of  lustrous  satins,  in  the  bold 
designs  of  their  tapestry,  in  their  drooping  feathers  and  man- 
dolins, in  their  stately  and  ceremonious  customs.  From 
Venice,  in  exchange  for  their  linen  and  laces,  they  received 


THE    QUEST  OF   THE  ABSOLUTE.  5 

the  glasses  of  fantastic  form  in  which  the  wine  seems  to  glow 
with  a  richer  color.  From  Austria  they  received  the  tradition 
of  the  grave  and  deliberate  diplomacy  which,  to  quote  the 
popular  adage,  "  made  three  steps  in  a  bushel  basket." 

Their  trade  with  the  Indies  has  brought  them  in  abundance 
the  grotesque  inventions  of  China  and  the  marvels  of  Japan. 
But  with  all  their  receptiveness,  their  power  of  absorbing 
everything,  of  giving  out  nothing,  and  of  patiently  enduring 
any  yoke,  Flanders  could  hardly  be  regarded  as  anything  but 
an  European  curiosity  shop,  a  mere  confusion  of  nationalities, 
until  the  discovery  of  tobacco  inaugurated  a  new  era.  Then 
the  national  character  was  fused  and  formed  out  of  all  these 
scattered  elements,  and  the  features  of  the  first  Fleming 
looked  forth  at  last  upon  the  world  through  a  cloud  of 
tobacco-smoke.  Ever  since  that  time — no  matter  for  their 
frontiers  and  their  lands  divided  piecemeal — there  is  no  ques- 
tion of  the  solidarity  of  the  Flemings ;  they  are  one  nation, 
thanks  to  the  tankard  and  the  tobacco-pipe. 

So  Flanders,  with  its  practical  turn,  has  constantly  assimi- 
lated the  intellectual  and  material  wealth  of  its  masters  and 
neighbors,  until  the  country,  originally  so  dreary  and  unro- 
mantic,  has  recast  its  life  on  a  model  of  its  own  choosing, 
acquiring  the  habits  and  manners  best  suited  to  the  Flemish 
temperament  without  apparently  losing  its  own  individuality 
or  independence.  The  art  of  Flanders,  for  instance,  did  not 
strive  after  ideal  forms ;  it  was  content  to  reproduce  the  real 
as  it  had  never  been  reproduced  before.  It  is  useless  to  ask 
this  country  of  monumental  poetry  for  the  verve  of  comedy, 
for  dramatic  action,  for  musical  genius,  for  the  bolder  flights 
of  the  epic  or  the  ode ;  its  bent  is  rather  for  experimental 
science,  for  lengthy  disputations,  for  work  that  demands  time, 
and  smells  somewhat  of  the  lamp.  All  their  researches  are  of 
a  practical  kind,  and  must  conduce  to  physical  well-being. 
They  look  at  facts  and  see  nothing  beyond  them ;  thought 
must  bear  the  yoke  and  be  subservient  to  the  needs  of  life ;  it 


6  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

must  occupy  itself  with  realities,  and  never  soar  above  or 
beyond  them.  Their  sole  conception  of  a  national  career  was 
a  sort  of  political  thrift,  their  force  in  insurrection  was  the 
outcome  of  an  energetic  desire  to  have  sufficient  elbow-room 
at  table  and  to  take  their  ease  beneath  the  eaves  of  their 
steedes. 

It  was  this  love  of  comfort,  together  with  the  independent 
attitude  of  mind  which  is  a  result  of  prosperity,  that  led  them 
first  to  feel  that  desire  for  liberty  which,  later  on,  was  to  set 
all  Europe  in  a  ferment.  Moreover,  there  is  a  dogged  tena- 
city about  a  Fleming  and  a  fixity  of  idea  which  makes  him 
grow  dangerous  in  the  defence  of  his  rights.  They  are  a 
thorough  people  ;  and  whether  it  is  a  question  of  architecture 
or  furniture,  of  dykes  or  agriculture  or  insurrection,  they 
never  do  things  by  halves.  No  one  can  approach  them  in 
anything  they  set  themselves  to  do.  The  manufacture  of 
lace,  involving  the  patient  cultivation  of  flax  and  the  still 
more  patient  labor  of  the  worker,  together  with  the  industry 
of  the  linen  weaver,  have  been  the  sources  of  their  wealth 
from  one  generation  to  another. 

If  you  wished  to  paint  stability  incarnate,  perhaps  you 
could  not  do  better  than  take  some  good  burgomaster  of  the 
Low  Countries  for  model ;  a  man  not  lacking  in  heroism, 
and,  as  has  often  been  seen,  ready  to  die  in  his  citizen  fashion 
an  obscure  death  for  the  rights  of  his  Hausa. 

But  the  grace  and  poetry  of  this  patriarchal  existence  is 
naturally  revealed  in  a  description  of  one  of  the  last  remain- 
ing houses,  which  at  the  time  when  this  story  begins  still 
preserved  the  traditions  and  the  characteristics  of  that  life  in 
Douai. 

Of  all  places  in  the  department  of  the  Nord,  Douai  (alas!) 
is  the  town  which  is  being  modernized  most  rapidly ;  mod- 
ern innovations  are  bringing  about  a  revolution  there.  Old 
buildings  are  disappearing  day  by  day,  old-world  ways  are 
almost  forgotten  in  the  widespread  zeal  for  social  progress. 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  7 

Douai  now  takes  its  tone,  its  ways  of  life,  and  its  fashions 
from  Paris ;  in  Douai  there  will  soon  be  little  left  of  the  old 
Flemish  tradition  save  its  assiduous  and  cordial  hospitality, 
together  with  the  courtesy  of  Spain,  the  opulence  and  cleanli- 
ness of  Holland.  The  old  brick-built  houses  are  being  replaced 
by  hotels  with  white-stone  facings.  Substantial  Batavian  com- 
fort is  disappearing  to  make  way  for  elegant  frivolity  imported 
from  France. 

The  house  in  which  the  events  took  place,  which  are  to  be 
described  in  the  course  of  this  story,  was  almost  half-way  down 
the  Rue  de  Paris,  and  has  borne  in  Douai,  for  more  than  two 
hundred  years,  the  name  of  the  "  Maison  Claes." 

The  Van  Claes  had  formerly  been  among  the  most  celebrated 
of  the  families  of  craftsmen  who  founded  the  commercial 
prosperity  of  the  Netherlands.  For  many  generations  Claes 
succeeded  Claes  as  the  Dean  of  the  great  and  powerful  Guild 
of  Weavers  in  Ghent.  When  Charles  V.  endeavored  to  deprive 
the  city  of  its  privileges  and  Ghent  rose  in  revolt,  the  wealth- 
iest of  the  Claes  found  himself  so  deeply  compromised  that, 
foreseeing  the  inevitable  end  and  the  fate  reserved  for  him  and 
his  companions,  he  sent  away  his  wife  and  children  and  valu- 
ables under  a  French  escort,  before  the  city  was  invested  by 
the  Imperial  troops.  Events  proved  that  the  fears  of  the 
Dean  of  the  Guild  were  but  too  well  founded.  When  the 
city  capitulated,  he  and  some  few  fellow-citizens  were  excepted 
by  name  from  the  general  amnesty,  and  the  defender  of  the 
rights  and  privileges  of  Ghent  was  hanged  as  a  rebel  against 
the  Empire.  The  death  of  Claes  and  his  companions  bore 
its  fruits ;  in  the  years  to  come  these  useless  cruelties  were  to 
cost  the  King  of  Spain  the  best  part  of  the  Netherlands.  Of 
all  seed  sown  on  earth,  the  blood  of  the  martyrs  is  the  surest, 
and  the  harvest  follows  soonest  upon  the  sowing. 

While  Philip  II.  visited  the  sins  of  revolted  Ghent  upon  its 
children's  children,  and  ruled  Douai  with  a  rod  of  iron,  the 
Claes  (whose  vast  fortunes  were  unimpaired)  connected  them- 


8  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.^ 

selves  by  marriage  with  the  elder  branch  of  the  noble  house 
of  Molina,  an  alliance  which  repaired  the  fortunes  of  that 
illustrious  family,  and  enabled  them  to  purchase  back  their 
estates;  and  the  broad  lands  of  Nourho,  in  the  kingdom  of 
Leon,  came  to  support  an  empty  title.  After  this,  the  course 
of  the  family  fortunes  was  sufficiently  uneventful  until  the 
beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century,  when  the  family  of  Claes, 
or  rather  the  Douai  branch  of  it,  was  represented  in  the  per- 
son of  M.  Balthazar  Claes-Molina,  Count  of  Nourho,  who 
preferred  to  style  himself  simply  Balthazar  Claes.  Of  all  the 
vast  wealth  accumulated  by  his  ancestors  who  had  kept  so 
many  looms  at  work,  and  set  in  motion  so  many  wheels  of 
commerce,  there  remained  to  Balthazar  an  income  of  about 
fifteen  thousand  livres,  derived  from  landed  property  in  and 
around  Douai,  the  house  in  the  Rue  de  Paris,  and  its  furniture, 
which  was  worth  a  little  fortune.  As  for  the  estates  in  Leon, 
they  had  caused  a  lawsuit  between  Molina  of  Flanders  and 
Molina  of  Spain.  The  Molinas  of  Leon  gained  the  day,  and 
assumed  the  title  of  Counts  of  Nourho,  although  in  truth  it 
belonged  to  the  elder  branch,  the  Flemish  Claes ;  but  bour- 
geois vanity  in  the  Belgian  house  rose  superior  to  Castilian 
pride. 

When,  therefore,  formal  designations  were  registered,  Bal- 
thazar Claes  put  off  the  rags  of  Spanish  nobility  to  shine  with 
all  the  lustre  of  his  descent  from  citizens  of  Ghent.  The 
instinct  of  patriotism  was  so  strong  in  the  exiled  families  that 
until  the  very  end  of  the  eighteenth  century  the  Claes  remained 
faithful  to  family  traditions,  manners,  and  customs.  They 
only  married  into  the  most  strictly  bourgeois  families,  requiring 
a  certain  number  of  aldermen,  burgomasters,  or  the  like  civic 
dignitaries  among  the  ancestors  of  the  bride-elect  before 
receiving  her  among  them.  Now  and  then  a  Claes  would 
seek  a  wife  in  Bruges  or  Ghent,  or  as  far  away  as  Liege,  or 
even  in  Holland,  that  so  the  old  domestic  traditions  might  be 
kept  up.  Their  circle  became  gradually  more  and  more 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE,  9 

restricted,  until  towards  the  end  of  the  last  century  it  was  limited 
to  some  seven  or  eight  families  of  municipal  nobility,  wearers 
of  heavy-hanging,  toga-like  cloaks,  who  combined  the  digni- 
fied gravity  of  the  magistrate  with  that  of  the  Spanish  grandee, 
and  whose  manner  of  life  and  habits  were  in  harmony  with  their 
appearance.  The  family  of  Claes  was  looked  on  by  the  rest 
of  the  citizens  with  a  kind  of  awe  that  was  almost  supersti- 
tious. The  unswerving  loyalty,  the  spotless  integrity  of  the 
Claes,  together  with  their  staid,  impressive  demeanor  under  all 
circumstances,  had  given  rise  to  a  sort  of  legend  of  the  Claes, 
and  the  "  Maison  Claes"  was  as  much  an  institution  in  the 
city  as  the  Fete  de  Gayant.  The  spirit  of  old  Flanders  seemed 
to  fill  the  old  house  in  the  Rue  de  Paris,  in  which  lovers  of 
municipal  antiquity  would  find  a  perfect  example  of  the  un- 
pretending houses  which  the  wealthy  burghers  of  the  Middle 
Ages  built  for  themselves  to  dwell  in. 

The  principal  adornment  of  the  house  front  was  the  great 
doorway  with  its  folding  leaves  of  oak,  studded  with  large 
nails,  arranged  in  groups  of  five ;  in  the  centre  the  Claes  had 
proudly  carved  their  arms,  two  spindles  conjoined.  The 
pointed  archway  was  of  sandstone,  and  was  surmounted  by  a 
little  statuette  of  St.  Genevieve  with  her  spindle,  set  in  a 
sort  of  shrine  with  a  cross  above  it.  The  delicate  carving 
about  the  shrine  and  the  doorway  had  grown  somewhat  darker 
by  the  lapse  of  time ;  but  so  carefully  had  it  been  kept  by  the 
owners  of  the  house,  that  every  detail  was  visible  at  a  passing 
glance.  The  clustered  shafts  in  the  jams  on  either  side  the 
doorway  had  preserved  their  dark  gray  color,  and  shone  as  if 
their  surfaces  had  been  polished.  The  windows  were  all 
alike.  The  sill  was  supported  by  a  richly-carved  bracket,  the 
window  frame  was  of  white  stone  and  in  the  form  of  a  cross, 
so  that  the  window  itself  was  divided  into  four  unequal  parts, 
the  two  lower  lights  being  nearly  twice  the  size  of  the  upper. 
Each  of  the  upper  divisions  was  surmounted  by  an  arch, 
which  sprang  from  the  height  of  the  central  mullion.  These 


10  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

arches  consisted  of  a  triple  row  of  bricks,  each  row  jutting 
out  above  the  one  beneath  it  by  way  of  ornament ;  the  bricks 
in  each  row,  moreover,  alternately  projected  and  receded 
about  an  inch,  so  as  to  form  a  sort  of  checquer  pattern.  The 
small  lozenge-shaped  panes  were  set  in  exceedingly  slender 
reticulating  bars,  which  were  painted  red. 

For  the  sake  of  added  strength  a  course  of  white  stone  was 
built  at  intervals  into  the  brick  walls,  which  were  jointed  with 
white  mortar,  and  the  corners  of  the  house  were  constructed 
of  white  stone  quoins. 

There  were  two  windows  on  the  ground  floor,  one  on  either 
side  of  the  door,  five  in  the  first  story,  and  but  three  in  the 
second,  while  the  third  immediately  beneath  the  roof  was 
lighted  by  a  single  circular  window,  divided  into  five  com- 
partments, and  faced  with  sandstone.  This  window  was  set 
in  the  centre  of  the  gable  like  a  rose  window  over  the  arched 
gateway  of  a  cathedral. 

The  weathercock  on  the  ridge  of  the  roof  was  a  spindle 
filled  with  flax.  The  two  sides  of  the  great  gable  rose  step- 
wise  from  the  height  of  the  first  story,  and  at  this  departing 
point  a  grotesque  gargoyle  on  either  side  discharged  the  rain- 
water from  the  gutters.  All  around  the  base  of  the  house  there 
ran  a  projecting  course  of  sandstone  like  a  step.  Finally,  on 
either  side,  between  the  window  and  the  door  lay  a  trap-door, 
heavily  bound  and  hinged  with  iron  scroll-work,  a  relic  of  the 
days  of  yore. 

Ever  since  the  house  had  been  built  the  front  had  been 
carefully  scoured  twice  a  year;  not  a  particle  of  mortar 
came  loose  or  fell  out  but  was  immediately  replaced.  The 
costliest  marbles  in  Paris  are  not  kept  so  clean  and  so  free 
from  dust  as  the  window-bars,  sills,  and  outside  stonework  of 
this  Flemish  dwelling.  The  whole  house  front  was  in  perfect 
preservation.  The  color  of  the  surface  of  the  brick  might  be 
somewhat  darkened  by  time,  but  it  was  as  carefully  kept  as  an 
old  picture  or  some  book-lover's  cherished  folio — treasures 


THE    QUEST   OF   THE  ABSOLUTE.  11 

that  would  never  grow  old  were  it  not  for  the  noxious  gases 
distilled  by  our  atmosphere,  which  no  less  threaten  the  lives 
of  their  owners.  The  clouded  skies  of  Flanders,  the  damp- 
ness of  the  climate,  the  absence  of  light  or  air  caused  by  the 
somewhat  narrow  street,  soon  dimmed  the  glories  of  this  pe- 
riodically renewed  cleanliness,  and,  moreover,  gave  the  house 
a  dreary  and  depressing  look.  A  poet  would  have  welcomed 
a  few  blades  of  grass  in  the  openwork  of  the  little  shrine,  and 
some  mosses  on  the  surface  of  the  sandstone ;  he  might  have 
wished  for  a  cleft  or  crack  here  and  there  in  those  too  orderly 
rows  of  bricks,  so  that  a  swallow  might  find  a  place  in  which 
to  build  her  nest  beneath  the  red  triple  arches  of  the 
windows. 

There  was  an  excessive  neatness  and  smoothness  about  the 
house  front,  worn  with  repeated  scourings ;  an  air  of  sedate 
propriety  and  of  grim  respectability  which  would  have  driven 
a  romantic  writer  out  of  the  opposite  house  if  he  had  been  so 
ill  advised  as  to  take  up  his  abode  there.  This  air  of  propriety 
and  respectability  was  simply  fatal  to  the  spirit  of  romance. 

When  a  visitor  had  pulled  the  wrought-iron  bell  handle 
that  hung  by  the  side  of  the  door,  and  a  maidservant  from 
some  inner  region  had  opened  the  heavy  folding-doors, 
they  fell  to  again  with  a  clang  that  echoed  up  into  the  lofty 
roof  of  a  great  paved  gallery,  and  died  away  in  remote  mur- 
murs through  the  house.  You  would  have  thought  that  the 
doors  had  been  made  of  bronze.  From  the  gallery,  which  was 
always  cool,  with  its  walls  painted  to  resemble  marble,  and 
its  paved  floor  strewn  with  fine  sand,  you  entered  a  large 
square  inner  court  paved  with  glazed  tiles  of  a  greenish  color. 
To  the  left  lay  the  kitchens,  laundry,  and  servants'  hall ;  to 
the  right  the  wood- house,  the  coal-cellars,  and  various  offices. 
Every  window  and  door  was  ornamented  with  carving,  which 
was  kept  exquisitely  spotless  and  free  from  dust.  The  whole 
place  was  shut  in  by  four  red  walls  striped  with  bars  of  white 
stone,  so  that  the  daylight  which  penetrated  into  it  seemed  in 


12  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

its  passage  to  take  a  faint  red  tint,  which  was  reflected  by 
every  figure,  and  gave  a  mysterious  charm  and  strange  unfa- 
miliar look  to  every  least  detail. 

On  the  further  side  of  this  courtyard  stood  that  portion  of 
the  house  in  which  the  family  lived,  the  quartier  de  derriere, 
as  they  call  it  in  Flanders,  a  building  exactly  similar  to  the 
one  facing  the  street.  The  first  room  on  the  ground  floor 
was  a  parlor  lighted  by  four  windows ;  two  looked  out  upon 
the  courtyard,  and  two  upon  a  garden,  a  space  of  ground 
about  as  large  as  that  on  which  the  house  was  built.  Access 
to  this  garden  and  to  the  courtyard  was  given  by  two  opposite 
glass  doors,  which  occupied  the  same  relative  position  as  the 
street  door ;  so  that  as  soon  as  a  stranger  entered  the  whole 
house  lay  before  him,  as  well  as  a  distant  vista  of  the  greenery 
at  the  further  end  of  the  garden  beyond  it. 

Visitors  were  received  in  that  portion  of  the  house  which 
looked  out  upon  the  street,  and  strangers  were  lodged  in 
apartments  in  the  second  story  ;  but  though  these  rooms  con- 
tained works  of  art  and  costly  furniture,  there  was  nothing 
which,  in  the  eyes  of  Claes  himself,  could  be  compared  with 
the  art  treasures  that  filled  the  rooms  which  had  been  the 
centre  of  family  life  for  centuries,  and  a  discerning  taste  would 
have  confirmed  his  judgment.  The  historian  should  not  omit 
to  record  of  the  Claes  who  died  for  the  cause  of  freedom  in 
Ghent,  that  he  had  accumulated  nearly  forty  thousand  silver 
marks,  gained  by  the  manufacture  of  sail-cloths  for  the  all- 
powerful  navy  of  Venice.  The  Flemish  craftsman  was  a  man 
of  substance,  and  had  for  his  friend  the  celebrated  wood- 
carver,  Van  Huysium,  of  Bruges.  Many  times  the  artist  had 
had  recourse  to  his  friend's  purse.  When  Ghent  rose  in  revolt, 
Van  Huysium,  then  himself  a  wealthy  man,  had  secretly 
carved  for  his  old  friend  a  piece  of  paneling  of  massive  ebony, 
on  which  he  had  wrought  the  story  of  Van  Artevelde,  the 
brewer  who  for  a  little  while  ruled  over  Flanders.  This  piece 
of  woodwork  consisted  of  sixty  panels,  and  contained  about 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  13 

fourteen  hundred  figures;  it  was  considered  to  be  Van  Huy- 
sium's  masterpiece. 

When  Charles  V.  made  up  his  mind  to  celebrate  his  entry 
into  the  city  which  gave  him  birth  by  hanging  twenty-six  of 
its  burghers,  the  victims  were  consigned  to  the  custody  of  a 
captain,  who  (so  it  was  said)  had  offered  to  connive  at  Claes' 
escape  in  return  for  these  panels  of  Van  Huysium's,  but  the 
weaver  had  previously  sent  them  into  France. 

The  parlor  in  the  house  in  the  Rue  de  Paris  was  wainscoted 
entirely  with  these  panels.  Van  Huysium,  out  of  respect  for 
the  memory  of  the  martyr,  had  come  himself  to  set  them  in 
their  wooden  framework,  painted  with  ultramarine,  and  cov- 
ered with  a  gilded  network,  so  that  this  is  the  most  complete 
example  of  a  master  whose  least  fragments  are  now  worth 
their  weight  in  gold.  Titian's  portrait  of  Claes  in  the  robes 
that  he  wore  as  President  of  the  Tribunal  des  Parchons  looked 
down  from  the  chimney-piece ;  he  still  seemed  to  be  the  head 
of  the  family  which  regarded  him  with  veneration  as  its  great 
man.  The  chimney-piece,  itself  originally  plain  stone,  had 
been  reconstructed  of  white  marble  during  the  eighteenth 
century.  A  venerable  timepiece  stood  upon  the  ledge  be- 
tween two  five-branched  candle-sconces,  tortuous,  elaborate, 
and  in  the  worst  possible  taste,  but  all  of  massive  silver.  The 
four  windows  were  draped  with  crimson  brocaded  damask 
curtains,  covered  with  a  dark  flowered  pattern,  and  lined  with 
white  silk ;  the  furniture  had  been  re-covered  with  the  same 
material  in  the  time  of  Louis  XIV.  The  polished  floor  was 
evidently  modern — large  squares  of  white  wood,  with  slips  of 
oak  inserted  between  them,  but  the  ceiling  yet  preserved  the 
peculiarly  deep  hues  of  Dutch  oak.  Perhaps  it  had  been  re- 
spected because  Van  Huysium  had  carved  the  masks  on  the 
medallions  bordered  with  scrolls  which  adorned  it. 

In  each  of  the  four  corners  of  the  parlor  stood  a  short 
column,  with  a  five-branched  silver  sconce  upon  it,  like  those 
upon  the  chimney-piece,  and  a  round  table  occupied  the 


14  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLU7"E. 

centre  of  the  room.  Several  card  -tables  were  ranged  along 
the  walls  with  much  precision ;  and  on  the  white  marble  slabs 
of  two  gilded  console  tables  stood,  at  the  time  when  this  story 
begins,  two  glass  globes  full  of  water,  in  which  gold  and  silver 
fish  were  swimming  above  a  bed  of  sand  and  shells. 

The  room  was  sombre,  and  yet  aglow  with  color.  The 
ceiling  of  dark  oak  seemed  to  absorb  the  light,  and  to  give 
none  of  it  back  into  the  room.  If  the  sunlight  pouring  in 
from  the  windows  that  looked  out  into  the  garden  scintillated 
from  every  polished  ebony  figure  on  the  opposite  wall,  the 
light  admitted  from  the  courtyard  was  always  so  faint  that 
even  the  gold  network  on  the  other  side  looked  dim  in  the 
perpetual  twilight. 

A  bright  day  brought  out  all  the  glories  of  the  place ;  but, 
for  the  most  part,  its  hues  were  subdued  and  soft,  and,  like  the 
sombre  browns  and  reds  of  autumn  forests,  they  took  brighter 
hues  only  in  the  sun.  It  is  unnecessary  to  describe  the 
"  Maison  Claes  "  at  further  length.  Many  of  the  scenes  in 
the  course  of  this  story  will,  of  course,  take  place  in  other 
parts  of  the  house,  but  it  will  be  sufficient  for  the  present  to 
have  some  idea  of  its  general  arrangement. 

On  a  Sunday  afternoon  towards  the  end  of  August,  in  the 
year  1812,  a  woman  was  sitting  in  a  large  easy-chair  by  one 
of  the  windows  that  looked  out  on  the  garden.  It  was  after 
the  time  of  vespers.  The  rays  of  sunlight  falling  on  the  side 
of  the  house  slanted  across  the  room  in  broad  beams,  played 
with  fantastic  effect  on  the  opposite  wall,  and  died  away 
among  the  sombre  ebony  figures  of  the  panels ;  but  the 
woman  sat  in  the  purple  shadow  cast  by  the  damask  curtain. 
A  painter  of  mediocre  ability  could  not  have  failed  to  make 
a  striking  picture  if  he  had  faithfully  portrayed  a  face  with  so 
sad  and  wistful  an  expression.  The  woman  was  sitting  with 
her  feet  stretched  out  before  her  in  a  listless  attitude ;  appar- 
ently she  had  lost  all  consciousness  of  her  physical  existence, 
and  one  all-absorbing  thought  had  complete  possession  of  her 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  15 

mind,  a  thought  which  seemed  to  open  up  the  paths  of  the 
future  just  as  a  ray  of  sunlight  piercing  through  the  clouds 
lights  up  a  gleaming  path  on  the  horizon  of  the  sea.  Her 
hands  hung  over  the  arms  of  the  chair ;  her  head,  as  though 
it  bore  a  load  of  thought  too  heavy,  had  fallen  back  against 
the  cushions.  She  wore  a  loose  cambric  gown,  very  simply 
made;  the  scarf  about  her  shoulders  was  carelessly  knotted  on 
her  breast,  so  that  the  lines  of  her  figure  were  almost  concealed. 
Apparently  she  preferred  to  call  attention  to  her  face  rather 
than  to  her  person  ;  and  it  was  a  face  which,  even  if  it  had 
not  been  brought  into  strong  relief  by  the  light,  would  have 
arrested  and  fixed  the  attention  of  any  beholder,  for  its  ex- 
pression of  dull,  hopeless  misery  would  have  struck  the  most 
heedless  child.  Nothing  is  more  terrible  to  witness  than  such 
anguish  as  this  in  one  who  seldom  gives  way  to  it ;  the  burning 
tears  that  fell  from  time  to  time  seemed  like  the  fiery  lava  flood 
of  a  volcano.  So  might  a  dying  mother  weep  who  is  com- 
pelled to  leave  her  children  in  the  lowest  depths  of  wretched- 
ness without  a  single  human  protector. 

The  lady  seemed  to  be  about  forty  years  of  age.  She  was  more 
nearly  beautiful  now  than  she  had  ever  been  in  her  girlhood. 
Clearly  she  was  no  daughter  of  the  land.  Her  hair  was  thick 
and  black,  and  fell  in  curls  over  her  shoulders  and  about  her 
face  ;  her  forehead  was  very  prominent,  narrow  at  the  temples, 
sallow  in  hue,  but  the  black  eyes  flashed  fire  from  beneath  her 
brows,  and  she  had  the  dark  pallor  of  the  typical  Spaniard. 
The  perfect  oval  of  her  face  attracted  a  second  glance ;  the 
ravages  of  smallpox  had  destroyed  the  delicacy  of  its  outlines, 
but  had  not  marred  its  graciousness  and  dignity ;  at  times  it 
seemed  as  if  the  soul  had  power  to  restore  to  it  all  its  pristine 
purity  of  form.  If  pride  of  birth  was  revealed  in  the  thick 
tightly-folded  lips,  there  was  also  natural  kindliness  and  gra- 
ciousness in  their  expression  ;  but  the  feature  which  gave  most 
distinction  to  a  masculine  type  of  face  was  an  aquiline  nose. 
Its  curve  was  somewhat  too  strongly  marked,  the  result, 


16  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

apparently,  of  some  interior  defect;  but  there  was  a  subtle 
refinement  in  its  outlines,  in  the  thin  septum  and  fine  transpa- 
rent nostrils  that  glowed  in  the  light  with  a  bright  red.  She 
was  a  woman  who  might,  or  might  not,  be  considered  beauti- 
ful, but  no  one  could  fail  to  notice  the  vigorous  yet  feminine 
head. 

.  She  was  short,  lame,  and  deformed  ;  she  had  married  later 
than  women  usually  do,  and  this  partly  because  it  was  insisted 
that  her  slow-wittedness  was  stupidity;  yet  more  than  one 
man  had  read  the  indications  of  ardent  passion  and  of  inex- 
haustible tenderness  in  her  face,  and  had  fallen  completely 
under  the  spell  of  a  charm  that  was  difficult  to  reconcile  with 
so  many  defects.  She  bore  in  many  ways  a  strong  resemblance 
to  the  Spanish  grandee,  her  ancestor,  the  Duke  of  Casa-Real. 
Perhaps  the  force  of  the  charm  which  romantic  natures  had 
erewhile  found  so  tyrannous,  the  power  of  a  fascination  that 
sways  men's  hearts,  but  is  powerless  to  rule  their  destinies,  had 
never  in  her  life  been  greater  than  now,  when  it  was  wasted, 
so  to  speak,  on  empty  space.  She  seemed  to  be  watching  the 
gold  fish  in  the  glass  before  her,  but  in  truth  her  eyes  saw 
nothing,  and  she  raised  them  from  time  to  time,  as  if  implor- 
ing heaven  in  despair ;  it  would  seem  that  such  trouble  as  hers 
could  be  confided  to  God  alone. 

The  room  was  perfectly  silent  save  for  the  chirping  of  the 
crickets  without ;  the  shrill  notes  of  a  few  cicadas  came  in 
with  a  breath  of  hot  air  from  the  little  garden,  which  was  like 
a  furnace  in  the  afternoon  sun.  From  a  neighboring  room 
there  came  smothered  sounds;  silver  or  china  rattled,  or 
chairs  were  moved,  as  the  servants  laid  the  cloth  for  dinner. 

Suddenly  the  lady  started  and  seemed  to  listen  ;  she  took 
her  handkerchief,  dried  her  eyes,  and  endeavored  to  smile ;  so 
successfully  did  she  efface  all  traces  of  sorrow,  that  from  her 
seeming  serenity  it  might  have  been  thought  that  she  had 
never  known  an  anxiety  or  a  care  in  her  life.  It  was  the 
sound  of  a  man's  footstep  that  had  wrought  the  change.  It 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  17 

ecnoed  in  the  long  gallery  built  over  the  kitchens  and  the  ser- 
vants' quarters,  which  united  the  front  part  of  the  house  with 
the  back  portion  in  which  the  family  lived.  Whether  it  was 
because  weak  health  had  so  long  confined  her  to  the  house 
that  she  could  recognize  the  least  noise  in  it  at  once ;  or 
because  a  highly-wrought  temperament  ever  on  the  watch  can 
detect  sounds  that  are  imperceptible  to  ordinary  ears ;  or  be- 
cause nature,  in  compensation  for  so  many  physical  disadvan- 
tages, had  bestowed  a  gift  of  sense-perception  seldom  accorded 
to  human  beings  apparently  more  happily  constituted  ;  this 
sense  of  hearing  was  abnormally  acute  in  her.  The  sound  of 
the  footsteps  came  nearer  and  nearer.  And  soon,  not  only  for 
an  impassioned  soul  such  as  hers,  which  can  annilhilate  time 
and  space  at  will  that  so  it  may  find  its  other  self,  but  for  any 
stranger,  a  man's  step  on  the  staircase  which  led  to  the  parlor 
was  audible  enough. 

There  was  something  in  the  sound  of  that  footstep  which 
would  have  struck  the  most  careless  mortal ;  it  was  impossible 
to  hear  it  with  indifference.  We  are  excited  by  the  mere 
sounds  of  hurry  or  flight ;  when  a  man  springs  up  and  raises 
the  alarm  of  "Fire  !  "  his  feet  are  at  least  as  eloquent  as  his 
tongue,  and  the  impression  left  by  a  slow,  measured  tread  is 
every  whit  as  powerful.  The  deliberate,  heavy,  lagging  foot- 
fall in  the  gallery  would  no  doubt  have  irritated  impatient 
people ;  but  a  nervous  person,  or  an  observer  of  human 
nature,  could  scarcely  have  heard  it  without  feeling  a  thrill  of 
something  very  like  dread.  Was  there  any  life  in  those  feet 
that  moved  so  mechanically?  It  was  a  dull,  heavy  sound,  as 
if  the  floor  boards  had  been  struck  by  an  iron  weight.  The 
slow,  uncertain  step  called  up  visions  of  a  man  bending  under 
a  load  of  years,  or  of  a  thinker  walking  majestically  beneath 
the  weight  of  worlds.  The  man  reached  the  lowest  stair, 
and  set  foot  upon  the  pavement  slowly  and  irresolutely.  In 
the  great  hall  he  paused  for  a  moment.  A  passage  led  thence 
to  the  servants'  quarters,  a  door  concealed  in  the  wainscot 
2 


18  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

gave  admittance  to  the  parlor,  and  through  a  second  parallel 
door  you  entered  the  dining-room. 

A  light  tremor,  caused  by  a  sensation  like  an  electric  shock, 
ran  through  the  frame  of  the  woman  in  the  easy-chair ;  but  a 
sweet  smile  trembled  on  her  lips,  her  face  lighted  up  with 
eager  expectation,  and  grew  fair  and  radiant  like  the  face  of 
an  Italian  Madonna.  She  summoned  all  her  strength,  and 
forced  back  her  terrors  into  some  inner  depth  ;  then  she 
turned  and  looked  towards  the  door  set  in  the  panels  in  the 
corner  of  the  parlor ;  it  flew  open  so  suddenly  that  the  start- 
ling sound  was  quite  sufficient  to  account  for  and  to  cover  her 
agitation. 

Balthazar  Claes  appeared  and  made  several  paces  forward ; 
he  either  did  not  look  at  the  woman  in  the  low  chair,  or  if  he 
looked  at  her,  it  was  with  unseeing  eyes.  He  stood  upright 
in  the  middle  of  the  parlor,  his  head  slightly  bent,  and  sup- 
ported by  his  right  hand.  The  smile  faded  from  the  woman's 
face  ;  her  heart  was  pierced  by  a  horrible  pang,  felt  none  the 
less  keenly  because  it  had  come  to  be  a  part  of  her  daily 
experience  °}  her  dark  brows  contracted  with  pain,  deepening 
lines  already  traced  there  by  the  frequent  expression  of  strong 
feelingj  and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  which  she  hastily 
brushed  away,  as  she  looked  ct  Balthazar. 

There  was  something  exceedingly  impressive  about  the  head 
of  the  house  of  Claes.  In  his  younger  days  he  had  borne  a 
strong  resemblance  to  the  heroic  martyr  who  had  threatened 
to  play  the  part  of  Artevelde  and  defied  the  Emperor, 
Charles  V.;  but  at  the  present  moment  the  man  of  fifty  or 
thereabouts  might  have  been  sixty  years  of  age  and  more ; 
and  with  the  beginnings  of  a  premature  old  age,  the  likeness 
to  his  great-minded  ancestor  had  ceased.  His  tall  figure  was 
slightly  bent ;  perhaps  he  had  contracted  the  habit  by  stoop- 
ing over  his  books,  or  perhaps  the  curvature  was  due  to  the 
weight  of  a  head  over-heavy  for  the  spine.  He  was  broad- 
chested  and  square-shouldered ;  his  lower  extremities,  though 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  19 

muscular,  were  thin  ;  you  could  not  help  casting  about  for 
some  explanation  of  this  puzzling  singularity  in  a  frame  which 
evidently  had  once  been  perfectly  proportioned.  His  thick, 
fair  hair  fell  carelessly  over  his  shoulders  in  the  German 
fashion,  in  a  disorder  which  was  quite  in  keeping  with  a 
strange  air  of  slovenliness  and  general  neglect.  His  forehead 
was  broad  and  high ;  the  prominence  of  the  region  to  which 
Gall  has  assigned  ideality  was  very  strongly  marked.  The 
clear,  dark-blue  eyes  seemed  to  have  a  power  of  keen  an,d 
quick  vision,  a  characteristic  often  noted  in  students  of  occult 
sciences.  The  shape  of  the  nose  had  doubtless  once  been 
perfect ;  it  was  very  long,  the  nostrils  had  apparently  grown 
wider  by  involuntary  tension  of  the  muscles  in  the  continual 
exercise  of  the  sense  of  smell.  The  hollows  in  a  face  which 
was  beginning  to  age  seemed  all  the  deeper  by  force  of  con- 
trast with  the  high  cheek-bones,  thickly  covered  with  short 
hair.  The  mouth  with  its  gracious  outlines  seemed,  as  it 
were,  to  be  imprisoned  between  the  nose  and  a  short,  sharply 
turned-up  chin. 

Certain  theorists,  who  have  a  fancy  for  discerning  animal 
resemblances  in  human  countenances,  would  have  seen  in  the 
long,  rather  than  oval,  face  of  Balthazar  Claes  a  likeness  to 
the  head  of  a  horse.  There  was  no  softness  or  roundness 
about  its  outlines ;  the  skin  was  tightly  drawn  over  the  bones 
as  if  it  had  shrunk  under  the  scorching  influence  of  a  fire 
that  burned  within ;  there  were  moments  when  the  eyes 
looked  out  into  space  as  if  seeking  for  the  realization  of  his 
hopes,  and  at  such  times  this  fire  that  consumed  him  seemed 
to  escape  from  his  nostrils. 

There  are  deep  thoughts  which  seem  to  be  living  forces  of 
which  great  men  are  the  embodiment ;  some  such  thought 
seemed  to  be  visibly  expressed  in  the  pale  face  with  its  deeply- 
carved  wrinkles,  to  have  scored  the  furrows  on  a  brow  like 
that  of  some  old  king  full  of  cares,  and  to  shine  forth  most 
clearly  from  the  brilliant  eyes ;  the  fire  in  them  seemed  to  be 


20  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

fed  by  the  temperate  life  which  is  the  result  of  the  tyrannous 
discipline  of  great  ideas,  and  by  the  fires  of  a  mighty  intelli- 
gence. They  were  deeply  set  and  surrounded  by  dark  circles, 
which  seemed  to  tell  of  long  vigils  and  of  terrible  prostration 
of  mind  consequent  on  reiterated  disappointments,  of  hopes 
that  sprang  up  anew  only  to  be  blighted,  of  wear  and  tear  of 
body  and  mind.  Art  and  science  are  jealous  divinities  ;  their 
devotees  betray  themselves  by  unmistakable  signs.  There  was 
a,  dreamy  abstractedness  and  aloofness  in  Balthazar  Claes' 
manner  and  bearing  which  was  quite  in  keeping  with  the 
magnificent  head  so  lacking  in  human  quality.  His  large 
hands,  covered  with  hair,  were  soiled ;  there  were  jet-black 
lines  at  the  tips  of  the  long  finger-nails.  There  was  an  air  of 
slovenliness  about  the  master  of  the  house  which  would  not 
have  been  tolerated  in  any  of  its  other  inmates. 

His  shoes  were  seldom  cleaned,  or  the  laces  were  broken  or 
missing.  His  black  cloth  breeches  were  covered  with  stains, 
buttons  were  lacking  on  his  waistcoat,  his  cravat  was  askew, 
his  coat  had  assumed  a  greenish  tint,  here  and  there  the  seams 
had  given  way ;  everything  about  him,  down  to  the  smallest 
trifle,  combined  to  produce  an  uncouth  effect,  which  in  another 
would  have  indicated  the  lowest  depths  of  outcast  misery,  but 
in  Balthazar  Claes  it  was  the  neglect  of  genius. 

Vice  and  genius  bring  about  results  so  similar  that  ordinary 
people  are  often  misled  by  them.  What  is  genius  but  a  form 
of  excess  which  consumes  time  and  money  and  health  and 
strength  ?  It  is  an  even  shorter  road  to  the  hospital  than  the 
path  of  the  prodigal.  Men,  moreover,  appear  to  pay  more 
respect  to  vice  than  to  genius ;  for  they  decline  to  give  it 
credit  or  credence.  It  would  seem  that  genius  concerns  itself 
with  aims  so  far  remote,  that  society  is  shy  of  casting  accounts 
with  it  in  its  lifetime;  such  poverty  and  wretchedness  are 
clearly  unpardonable.  Society  prefers  to  have  nothing  to  do 
with  genius. 

Yet  there  were   moments  when  it  would  have   been  hard 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  21 

to  refuse  admiration  to  Balthazar  Claes — moments  when,  in 
spite  of  his  absent-mindedness  and  mysterious  preoccupation, 
some  impulse  drew  him  to  his  fellows,  and  the  face  of  the 
thinker  was  lighted  up  by  a  kindly  thought  expressed  in  the 
eyes,  the  hard  light  in  them  disappeared,  and  he  looked 
round  him  and  returned  (so  to  speak)  to  life  and  its  realities ; 
at  such  times  there  was  an  attractive  beauty  in  his  face,  a 
gracious  spirit  looked  forth  from  it.  Any  one  who  saw  him 
then  would  regret  that  such  a  man  should  lead  the  life  of  a 
hermit,  and  add  that  "  he  must  have  been  very  handsome  in 
his  youth."  A  vulgar  error.  Balthazar  Claes  had  never 
looked  more  interesting  than  at  this  moment.  Lavater 
would  certainly  have  studied  the  noble  head,  have  recog- 
nized the  unwearying  patience,  the  stainless  character,  the 
steadfast  loyalty  of  the  Fleming,  the  great  and  magnanimous 
nature,  the  power  of  passion  that  seemed  calm  because  it  was 
strong.  Such  a  man  would  have  been  a  constant  and  de- 
voted friend,  his  morals  would  have  been  pure,  his  word 
sacred ;  all  these  qualities  should  have  been  dedicated  to  the 
service  of  his  country,  to  his  own  circle  of  friends,  and  to 
his  family ;  it  was  the  will  of  the  man  which  had  given  them 
a  fatal  misdirection ;  and  the  citizen,  the  responsible  head  of 
a  household  and  disposer  of  a  large  fortune,  who  should  have 
been  the  guide  of  his  children  towards  a  fair  future,  lived 
apart  in  a  world  of  his  own  in  converse  with  a  familiar  spirit, 
a  world  in  which  his  duties  and  affections  counted  for  nothing. 
A  priest  would  have  seen  in  him  a  man  inspired  by  God,  an 
artist  would  have  hailed  him  as  a  great  master,  an  enthusiast 
might  have  taken  him  for  some  seer  after  the  pattern  of 
Sweden  borg. 

As  he  stood  by  the  window,  his  ragged,  disordered,  and 
threadbare  costume  was  in  strange  contrast  with  the  graceful 
dainty  attire  of  the  woman  who  watched  him  so  sadly.  A 
nice  taste  in  dress  often  distinguishes  persons  of  mental  ability 
or  refinement  of  soul  who  suffer  from  bodily  deformity.  They 


22  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

are  conscious  that  their  beauty  is  the  beauty  of  mind  and 
soul,  and  are  content  to  dress  simply,  or  they  discover  how 
to  divert  attention  from  their  physical  defects  by  a  studied 
elegance  in  every  detail.  And  the  woman  in  the  low  chair 
had  not  only  a  generous  soul,  but  she  loved  Balthazar  Claes 
with  that  woman's  intuition  which  is  a  foretaste  of  the  intel- 
ligence of  angels.  She  had  been  brought  up  in  one  of  the 
noblest  families  of  Belgium,  so  that  even  if  her  taste  had  not 
been  instinctive  it  would  have  been  acquired ;  and,  tutored 
since  then  by  her  desire  to  please  the  eyes  of  the  man  she 
loved,  she  had  learned  to  dress  herself  admirably,  and  to  adopt 
a  style  which  subdued  the  effect  of  her  deformity.  Moreover, 
although  one  shoulder  was  certainly  larger  than  the  other, 
there  was  no  other  defect  in  her  figure.  She  glanced  through 
the  window  into  the  courtyard,  and  then  into  the  garden,  as 
if  to  make  sure  that  no  one  was  within  hearing,  turned 
meekly  to  Balthazar,  and  spoke  in  the  low  tones  that  Flemish 
women  use,  for  the  love  between  these  two  had  long  since 
conquered  Castilian  pride. 

"You  must  be  very  deep  in  your  work,  Balthazar?  This 
is  the  thirty-third  Sunday  since  you  have  been  to  mass  or 
vespers." 

Claes  made  no  reply.  His  wife  bowed  her  head,  clasped 
her  hands,  and  waited,  watching  him  the  while.  She  knew 
that  his  silence  was  due  neither  to  contempt  nor  to  indiffer- 
ence, but  to  the  tyranny  of  an  all-absorbing  thought.  In  the 
depths  of  some  natures  the  sensitive  delicacy  of  youth  lingers 
long  after  youth  has  departed,  and  Balthazar  Claes  would  have 
shrunk  from  uttering  any  thought  that  might  wound,  however 
slightly,  a  woman  -who  was  always  oppressed  with  the  painful 
consciousness  of  her  physical  deformity.  And  this  dread  was 
ever  present  with  him.  He  understood,  as  few  men  do,  how 
a  word  or  a  single  glance  has  the  power  to  efface  the  happiness 
of  whole  years;  nay,  that  such  words  have  a  more  cruel 
power,  because  they  are  utterly  at  variance  with  the  constant 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  23 

tenderness  of  the  past ;  for  we  are  so  made  that  our  happiness 
makes  us  more  keenly  sensitive  to  pain,  while  sorrow  has  no 
such  power  of  intensifying  a  transitory  gleam  of  joy.  After  a 
few  moments,  Balthazar  roused  himself,  gave  a  quick  glance 

round  him,  and  said,  "Vespers? Ah!  the  children  have 

gone  to  vespers." 

He  stepped  towards  the  window  and  looked  out  into  the 
garden,  where  the  tulips  blazed  in  all  their  glory.  Then  he 
stopped  suddenly,  as  if  he  had  come  into  collision  with  a  wall, 
and  exclaimed,  "Why  should  they  not  combine  in  a  given 
time?" 

"Can  he  be  going  mad?"  his  terrified  wife  asked  herself. 

If  the  reader  is  to  understand  the  interest  of  this  scene,  and 
the  situation  out  of  which  it  arose,  it  will  be  necessary  to 
glance  over  the  previous  history  of  Balthazar  Claes  and  of  the 
granddaughter  of  the  Duke  of  Casa-Real. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  year  1783,  M.  Balthazar  Clacs- 
Molina  de  Nourho,  then  twenty-two  years  of  age,  might  have 
passed  for  a  "  fine  gentleman,"  as  we  say  in  France.  He  had 
just  completed  his  education  in  Paris ;  his  manners  had  been 
formed  in  the  society  of  Mme.  d'Egmont,  a  set  composed  of 
Frenchmen  who  came  originally  of  Belgian  families,  or  of 
Belgians  distinguished  either  by  birth  or  by  fortune.  Great 
nobles  and  persons  of  the  highest  fashion,  such  as  the  Count 
of  Horn,  the  Prince  of  Aremberg,  the  Spanish  Ambassador, 
and  Helvetius  were  among  the  Belgian  residents  in  Paris. 
The  young  Claes  had  relations  and  friends  there  who  intro- 
duced him  into  the  great  world,  just  as  the  great  world  was 
about  to  return  to  chaos ;  but,  like  many  young  men,  he  was 
attracted  at  first  by  glory  and  by  knowledge  rather  than  by 
frivolity.  He  frequented  the  society  of  learned  men,  waxed 
enthusiastic  for  science,  and  became  an  ardent  disciple  of 
Lavoisier,  who  was  then  better  known  for  the  vast  fortune  he 
had  acquired  as  farmer-general  of  taxes  than  for  the  scientific 


24  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

discoveries  which  were  to  make  the  name  of  the  great  chemist 
famous  long  after  the  farmer-general  was  forgotten. 

But  Claes  was  young,  and  as  handsome  as  Helvetius,  and 
Lavoisier  was  not  his  only  instructor.  Under  the  tuition  of 
women  in  Paris  he  soon  learned  to  distil  the  more  volatile 
elixirs  of  wit  and  gallantry  ;  and  although  he  had  previously 
thrown  himself  into  his  studies  with  an  enthusiasm  that  had 
won  the  commendations  of  his  master,  he  deserted  Lavoisier's 
laboratory  to  take  final  lessons  in  savoir-vivrc  under  the  guid- 
ance of  the  arbitresses  of  good  manners  and  good  taste,  the 
queens  of  the  high  society  which  forms  a  sort  of  family  all 
over  Europe. 

These  intoxicating  dreams  of  success  did  not  last  long 
however ;  Balthazar  Claes  breathed  the  air  of  Paris  for  a 
while ;  and  then,  in  no  long  time,  he  turned  his  back  on  the 
capital,  wearied  by  the  empty  life,  which  had  nothing  in  it  to 
satisfy  an  enthusiastic  and  affectionate  nature.  It  seemed  to 
him  that  the  quiet  happiness  of  family  life,  a  vision  called  up 
by  the  very  name  of  his  native  Flanders,  was  the  life  best 
suited  to  his  character  and  to  the  aspirations  of  his  heart.  The 
gilding  of  Parisian  salons  had  not  effaced  old  memories  of  the 
sombre  harmonies  of  the  parlor  in  the  old  house  in  Douai,  of 
the  little  garden,  and  the  happy  days  of  his  childhood. 

Those  who  would  fain  dwell  in  Paris  should  have  no  ties  of 
home  or  of  fatherland.  Paris  is  the  chosen  city  of  the  cosmo- 
politan, or  of  those  who  are  wedded  to  social  ambition ;  by 
means  of  art,  science,  or  political  power,  they  gain  a  hold  on 
the  world  which  they  never  relax. 

The  child  of  Flanders  went  back  to  the  house  in  Douai  as 
La  Fontaine's  pigeon  flew  home  to  its  nest.  It  was  the  day 
of  the  F£te  Gayant,  and  tears  came  into  his  eyes  at  the  sight 
of  the  procession.  Gayant,  the  Luck  of  the  city,  the  embodi- 
ment of  the  spirit  of  old  Flemish  traditions,  had  been  intro- 
duced into  Douai  since  his  family  had  been  driven  to  take 
refuge  there.  The  Maison  Claes  was  empty  and  silent ;  his 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  25 

father  and  mother  had  died  during  his  absence,  and  for  some 
time  family  affairs  required  his  presence  there. 

After  the  first  sorrow  for  his  loss  his  thoughts  turned  to 
marriage.  All  the  sacred  ties  which  bound  him  to  his  home 
and  the  pieties  of  the  hearth  had  reawakened  a  strong  desire 
in  him  to  complete  the  happy  existence  of  which  he  had 
dreamed ;  he  determined  to  do  as  his  forefathers  had  done, 
and  went  to  Ghent,  to  Bruges,  and  to  Antwerp  in  search  of  a 
bride.  He  probably  had  ideas  of  his  own  as  to  marriage,  for 
it  had  always  been  said  of  him  from  his  earliest  youth  that  he 
never  could  keep  to  the  beaten  track,  or  do  as  other  people 
did. 

It  so  fell  out  that  one  day  while  on  a  visit  to  one  of  his 
relations  in  Ghent,  he  heard  of  a  young  lady  in  Brussels 
concerning  whom  opinions  differed  considerably.  Some  con- 
sidered that  Mile.  Temninck's  beauty  was  quite  spoiled  by  her 
deformity,  others  hotly  insisted  that  she  was  perfection. 
Among  these  last  was  Balthazar  Claes'  somewhat  elderly 
cousin,  who  told  his  guests  that,  beautiful  or  no,  Mile.  Tem- 
ninck  had  a  soul  which  would  have  induced  him  to  marry  her 
if  he  had  been  choosing  a  wife.  And  with  that  he  told  how 
she  had  given  up  all  her  claims  on  the  family  estate  so  that 
her  younger  brother  might  make  a  marriage  befitting  his  rank 
and  name;  thus  setting  his  happiness  before  her  own,  and 
sacrificing  her  life  to  him,  for  it  was  scarcely  to  be  expected 
that  Mile.  Temninck  would  marry  now  that  she  had  no  fortune 
and  the  bloom  of  youth  was  past,  when  no  suitor  had  presented 
himself  for  the  heiress  in  her  girlhood. 

A  few  days  later  Balthazar  Claes  had  obtained  an  introduc- 
tion to  Mile.  Temninck,  now  a  woman  twenty-five  years  of 
age,  and  had  fallen  deeply  in  love  with  her.  Josephine  de 
Temninck  chose  to  regard  this  as  a  passing  fancy,  and  refused 
to  listen  to  M.  Claes;  but  the  influence  of  passion  is  very 
subtle,  and  in  this  love  for  her  in  a  man  who  had  youth  and 
good  looks  and  a  straight,  well-knit  frame,  there  was  something 


26  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

so  attractive  to  the  poor  lame  and  deformed  girl  that  she 
yielded  to  it. 

Could  a  whole  volume  suffice  to  tell  the  story  of  the  love 
that  thus  dawned  in  the  girl's  heart?  The  world  had  pro- 
nounced her  to  be  plain,  and  she  had  meekly  acquiesced  in 
the  decision,  conscious  though  she  was  of  possessing  the  irre- 
sistible charm  which  calls  forth  true  and  lasting  love.  And 
now  at  the  prospect  of  happiness,  what  fierce  jealousy  awoke 
in  her,  what  wild  projects  of  vengeance  if  a  rival  stole  a 
glance,  what  agitations  and  fears  such  as  seldom  fall  to  the  lot 
of  women,  which  cannot  but  lose  by  being  passed  over  in  a 
few  brief  words  !  The  analysis  must  be  minute.  Doubt,  the 
dramatic  element  in  love,  would  be  the  keynote  of  a  story  in 
which  certain  souls  would  find  once  more  the  poetry  of  those 
early  days  of  uncertainty,  long  since  lost  but  not  forgotten. 
The  ecstacy  in  the  depths  of  the  heart  which  the  face  never 
betrays,  the  fear  of  not  being  understood,  and  the  unspeakable 
joy  of  a  swift  response ;  the  misgivings  which  lead  the  soul 
to  shrink  within  itself;  the  moments  when,  as  if  drawn  forth 
by  some  magnetic  power,  the  soul  reveals  itself  in  the  eyes  by 
infinite  subtle  shades ;  wild  thoughts  of  suicide  that  arise  at  a 
word,  only  to  be  laid  to  rest  by  a  tone  in  a  voice  whose  vibra- 
tions reveal  unsuspected  depths  of  feeling;  tremulous  glances 
full  of  terrible  audacity ;  swift,  passionate  longings  to  speak 
or  act  rendered  powerless  by  their  very  vehemence ;  commun- 
ings  of  soul  with  soul  in  commonplace  phrases  which  owe  all 
their  eloquence  to  the  faltering  of  the  voice ;  mysterious  work- 
ings of  that  divine  discretion  and  modesty  of  soul  which  is 
generous  in  the  shade,  and  finds  exquisite  delight  in  sacrifices 
which  can  never  be  recognized ;  youthful  love,  in  short,  with 
the  weaknesses  of  its  strength. 

Mile.  Josephine  de  Temninck  was  a  coquette  through  lofti- 
ness of  soul.  The  painful  consciousness  of  her  deformity 
made  her  as  unapproachable  and  hard  to  please  as  the  prettiest 
of  women.  She  dreaded  that  a  day  would  come  when  her 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  27 

lover  would  cease  to  care  for  her,  and  the  thought  awakened 
her  pride  and  destroyed  her  confidence  in  herself.  With 
stoical  firmness,  she  locked  away  in  her  inmost  heart  the  first 
feelings  of  happiness  in  which  other  women  love  to  deck 
themselves  in  the  eyes  of  the  world.  The  more  love  drew  her 
to  Balthazar  Claes,  the  less  she  dared  to  give  expression  to 
love.  A  glance,  a  gesture,  a  question,  or  a  response  from  a 
pretty  woman  would  have  been  flattering  to  a  man ;  but  for 
her,  was  not  any  advance  a  humiliating  speculation  ?  A 
pretty  woman  can  be  herself,  people  look  leniently  on  her 
follies  or  mistakes;  but  a  single  glance  has  power  to  stop  the 
play  of  expression  on  a  plain  woman's  features,  to  make  her 
still  more  timid,  shy,  and  awkward.  Does  she  not  know  that 
she  of  all  women  can  afford  no  blunders ;  that  no  indulgence 
will  be  extended  to  her ;  nay,  that  no  one  will  give  her  any 
opportunity  of  repairing  them  ?  She  must  always  be  faultless ; 
does  not  the  thought  chill  and  dishearten  her  while  the  con- 
stant strain  exhausts  her  powers  ?  Such  a  woman  can  only 
live  in  an  atmosphere  of  divine  indulgence,  and  where  can  the 
hearts  be  found  in  which  indulgence  is  not  poisoned  by  a 
lurking  taint  of  pity? 

There  is  a  sort  of  consideration  more  painful  to  sensitive 
souls  than  even  positive  unkindness,  for  it  aggravates  their 
misfortunes  by  continually  giving  them  prominence.  The 
cruel  politeness  of  society  was  intolerable  to  Mile,  de  Tem- 
ninck.  She  schooled  herself  into  self-repression,  forced  back 
into  some  inner  depth  the  most  beautiful  thoughts  that  rose  in 
her  soul,  and  took  refuge  in  an  icy  reserve  of  manner  and 
bearing.  She  only  dared  to  love  in  secret,  and  was  eloquent 
or  charming  only  in  solitude.  She  was  plain  and  insignificant 
in  broad  daylight,  but  she  would  have  been  a  beautiful  woman 
if  she  could  have  lived  by  candlelight.  Not  seldom  she  had 
made  perilous  trials  of  Balthazar's  love,  risking  her  whole 
happiness  to  be  the  surer  of  it,  disdaining  the  aid  of  dress  and 
ornaments,  by  which  the  effect  of  deformity  could  be  softened 


28  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

or  concealed,  and  the  Spaniard's  eyes  grew  full  of  witchery 
when  she  saw  that  even  thus  she  was  beautiful  for  Balthazar 
Claes. 

Yet  even  the  rare  moments  when  she  ventured  to  give  her- 
self up  to  the  joy  of  being  loved  were  embittered  by  distrust 
and  fears.  Before  long  she  began  to  ask  herself  whether  Claes 
wished  to  marry  her  that  he  might  have  a  docile  slave,  whether 
he  had  not  some  defect  which  made  him  content  to  wed  a 
poor  deformed  girl.  The  doubts  and  anxieties  which  con- 
tinually harassed  her  made  those  hours  unspeakably  precious, 
in  which  she  felt  sure  that  this  was  a  true  and  lasting  love 
which  should  make  her  amends  for  all  the  slights  of  the  world. 
She  provoked  discussions  on  the  delicate  subject  of  her  own 
plainness,  dwelling  upon  it  and  exaggerating  it  that  she  might 
the  better  probe  her  lover's  nature,  and  came  in  this  way  by 
some  truths  but  little  flattering ;  yet  she  loved  him  for  the 
perplexity  in  which  he  found  himself  when  she  had  led  him 
on  to  say  that  a  woman  is  most  beloved  for  a  beautiful  soul 
and  for  the  devotion  which  makes  the  days  of  life  flow  on  in 
quiet  happiness ;  that  after  a  few  years  of  marriage  a  wife  may 
be  the  loveliest  woman  on  earth  or  the  plainest,  it  makes  no 
difference  to  her  husband.  In  support  of  this  theory  he  had 
heaped  together  such  truth  as  lies  in  various  paradoxical  asser- 
tions that  beauty  is  of  very  little  consequence,  till  he  suddenly 
became  aware  of  the  ungraciousness  of  his  arguments.  All 
the  goodness  of  his  heart  was  revealed  by  the  tact  and  delicacy 
with  which  he  gradually  changed  his  ground  and  made  Mile. 
de  Temninck  understand  that'  for  him  she  was  perfect. 

Perhaps,  in  a  woman,  devotion  is  the  highest  height  of 
love.  Devotion  was  not  wanting  in  this  girl  who  did  not 
dare  to  hope  that  love  would  not  fail.  She  felt  attracted  by 
the  prospect  of  a  struggle  in  which  sentiment  was  to  triumph 
over  beauty;  there  was  something  great,  she  thought,  in 
giving  herself  to  love  with  no  blind  faith  that  love  would  last ; 
and  finally,  this  happiness,  brief  as  it  might  prove,  must  cost 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  29 

her  so  dear  that  she  could  not  refuse  to  taste  it.  These  ques- 
tionings and  inward  struggles  gave  all  the  charm,  all  the 
varying  moods  of  passion  to  this  exalted  nature,  and  inspired 
in  Balthazar  a  love  that  was  almost  chivalrous. 

The  marriage  took  place  in  the  beginning  of  the  year  1795. 
They  went  back  to  Douai  to  spend  the  first  weeks  of  their 
married  life  in  the  ancestral  home  of  the  Claes.  The  house- 
hold treasures  there  had  been  increased.  Mile,  de  Temninck 
brought  with  her  several  fine  paintings  by  Murillo  and  Velas- 
quez, her  mother's  diamonds,  and  the  splendid  wedding  pres- 
ents sent  by  her  brother,  who  had  succeeded  to  the  title,  and 
was  now  Duke  of  Casa-Real.  Few  women  were  as  happy  as 
Mme.  Claes.  There  was  not  the  slightest  cloud  in  the  happi- 
ness that  lasted  for  fifteen  years,  a  happiness  that,  like  a  bright 
light,  transformed  even  the  most  trivial  details  of  daily  life. 

In  most  men  there  are  inequalities  of  character  which  cause 
continual  dissonances,  small  weaknesses  that  lead  to  bicker- 
ings, till  the  harmony  of  domestic  life  is  spoiled,  and  the  fair 
ideals  perish.  One  man  may  be  conscientious  and  hard  work- 
ing, but  he  is  hard  and  stern ;  another  is  good-natured,  but 
obstinate ;  a  third  will  love  his  wife  sincerely,  but  he  never 
knows  his  own  mind ;  while  a  fourth  is  so  absorbed  in  his  am- 
bitions that  he  looks  on  affection  as  a  debt  to  be  discharged, 
and  if  he  gives  all  the  vanities  of  fortune  he  takes  all  joy  out 
of  the  day. 

Mediocrity,  in  short,  is  by  its  very  nature  incomplete, 
though  its  sins  of  omission  and  commission  are  not  heinous. 
Clever  folk  are  as  changeable  as  the  barometer,  genius  alone 
is  essentially  good.  Perfect  happiness  is  accordingly  only  to  be 
found  at  either  extreme  of  the  intellectual  scale ;  there  is  a 
like  equability  of  temperament  in  the  good-natured  idiot  and 
in  the  man  of  genius,  arising  in  the  one  case  from  weakness, 
and  in  the  other  from  strength  of  character.  Both  are  capable 
of  a  constant  sweetness  of  temper,  which  softens  the  rough- 
nesses of  life.  In  the  one  its  source  is  an  easy  good-natured 


30  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

tolerance,  and  in  the  other  it  springs  from  indulgence;  a 
man  of  genius,  moreover,  is  the  interpreter  of  a  sublime  thought, 
which  cannot  fail  to  bring  his  whole  life  into  conformity  with 
itself.  Both  natures  are  simple  and  transparent ;  the  one 
because  of  its  shallowness,  the  other  by  reason  of  its  depth. 
Clever  women,  therefore,  are  sufficiently  ready  to  take  a  dunce 
as  the  best  substitute  for  a  man  of  genius. 

Balthazar's  greatness  of  character  showed  itself  from  the 
first  in  the  most  trivial  details  of  life.  Conjugal  love  was  a 
magnificent  thing  in  his  eyes ;  he  determined  to  develop  all 
its  beauty;  and,  like  all  powerful  characters,  he  could  not 
bear  that  there  should  be  any  falling  short  in  attainment.  His 
ingenuity  continually  varied  the  calm  monotony  of  happiness, 
and  everything  that  he  did  bore  the  stamp  of  a  noble  nature. 
For  instance,  although  he  was  in  sympathy  with  the  philo- 
sophical movement  of  the  eighteenth  century,  he  installed  a 
priest  in  his  household  until  the  year  1801  (a  step  which  laid 
him  open  to  the  severe  penalties  of  the  Revolutionary  code), 
humoring  the  bigoted  Catholicism  which  his  Spanish  wife  had 
imbibed  with  her  mother's  milk.  After  the  Roman  Catholic 
worship  was  restored  in  France,  he  went  with  her  every  Sun- 
day to  mass. 

His  attachment  never  quitted  the  forms  of  passion.  He 
never  asserted  the  protecting  power  that  women  love  so  well 
to  feel,  because  to  his  wife  it  would  have  seemed  like  pity. 
On  the  contrary,  by  a  most  ingenious  form  of  flattery,  he 
treated  her  as  his  equal,  and  would  break  into  playful  rebellion 
against  her  authority,  as  a  man  will  sometimes  permit  himself 
to  set  the  power  of  a  pretty  woman  at  defiance.  A  smile  of 
happiness  always  hovered  upon  his  lips,  and  his  tones  were 
unvaryingly  gentle. 

He  loved  his  Josephine  for  her  sake  and  for  his  own  with 
a  warmth  and  intensity  which  is  a  constant  tribute  to  the 
beauty  and  character  of  a  wife.  Fidelity,  often  the  result  of 
social,  religious,  or  interested  considerations,  seemed  in  his 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  31 

case  to  be  involuntary,  and  was  always  accompanied  by  the 
sweet  flatteries  of  the  springtime  of  love.  Duty  was  the  sole 
obligation  of  marriage  which  was  unknown  to  these  two  equally 
loving  beings,  for  Balthazar  Claes  found  in  Josephine  de 
Temninck  a  constant  and  complete  realization  of  his  hopes. 
His  heart  was  always  satisfied  to  the  full ;  he  was  always  happy, 
and  never  weary  of  his  happiness.  As  might  have  been  ex- 
pected, the  granddaughter  of  the  house  of  Casa-Real,  with 
her  Spanish  blood,  possessed  the  secret  of  an  "infinite  variety," 
but  she  had  no  less  capacity  for  a  limitless  devotion,  and  a 
woman's  genius  lies  in  devotion,  as  all  her  beauty  consists  in 
grace.  Her  love  was  a  blind  fanaticism ;  at  a  sign  from  him 
she  would  have  gone  joyfully  to  her  death.  Balthazar's  deli- 
cacy had  brought  out  all  the  womanly  generosity  of  her  nature, 
and  she  longed  to  give  more  than  she  received.  This  mutual 
exchange  of  a  happiness  which  each  in  turn  lavished  upon  the 
other  visibly  centered  her  life  without  her,  and  filled  her 
words,  her  looks,  and  actions  with  a  love  that  only  grew 
stronger  with  time.  On  all  sides  gratitude  enriched  and 
varied  the  life  of  the  heart,  just  as  the  certainty  that  each  lived 
only  for  the  other  made  littleness  impossible,  and  the  least 
accessories  of  such  a  life  ceased  to  be  trivialities. 

But  in  the  whole  feminine  creation  are  there  any  happier 
women  than  the  deformed  wife  who  is  not  crooked  for  the 
eyes  she  loves,  the  lame  woman  when  her  husband  would  not 
have  her  other  than  she  is,  and  the  wife  grown  old  and  gray 
who  is  still  young  for  him  ?  Human  passion  can  go  no  further 
than  this.  When  a  woman  is  adored  for  what  is  usually 
regarded  as  a  defect,  is  not  this  her  greatest  glory?  It  is  easy 
to  forget  in  a  moment's  fascination  that  a  woman  does  not 
walk  straight ;  but  when  she  is  loved  because  she  is  lame,  it  is 
the  apotheosis  of  her  infirmity.  In  the  evangel  of  women 
these  words  should  perhaps  be  written,  "  Blessed  are  the  im- 
perfect, for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  love."  And  of  a  truth 
beauty  must  be  a  misfortune  for  a  woman,  for  the  flower  of 


32  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

beauty  that  withers  so  soon  counts  for  so  much  in  the  feeling 
that  she  inspires ;  is  she  not  loved  for  her  beauty  as  an  heiress 
is  wedded  for  her  gold  ?  But  a  woman  without  this  perishable 
dower,  after  which  the  children  of  Adam  seek  so  eagerly, 
knows  the  love  that  is  love  indeed,  the  inmost  mystery  of 
passion,  the  union  of  soul  with  soul.  The  day  of  disillusion 
can  never  come  for  her.  Her  charm  is  not  recognized  by  the 
world,  she  owes  it  no  allegiance,  and  is  fair  for  one  alone; 
and  when  she  makes  it  her  glory  that  her  defects  should  be 
forgotten,  she  cannot  but  succeed  in  her  aim. 

Accordingly,  the  best-loved  women  in  history  have  been  by 
no  means  perfectly  beautiful  for  ordinary  eyes ;  Cleopatra, 
Joanna  of  Naples,  Diana  of  Poitiers,  Mile,  de  la  Valliere, 
Mme.  de  Pompadour,  and  nearly  all  women  famous  through- 
out the  world  for  the  love  which  they  once  inspired,  have  had 
their  defects  and  shortcomings,  while  others  of  whom  it  is 
recorded  that  there  was  no  flaw  in  their  loveliness  have  over 
and  over  again  seen  love  end  in  piteous  tragedy.  Do  man- 
kind live,  after  all,  rather  by  sentiment  than  by  pleasure? 
Perhaps  there  is  a  limit  to  the  charm  of  mere  physical  beauty, 
while  the  beauty  of  the  soul  is  infinite?  Is  not  this  the 
moral  of  the  tale  which  forms  a  setting  to  the  "Arabian 
Nights?"  If  Henry  VIII.  had  found  a  hard-featured  wife, 
she  might  have  defied  the  axe  and  retained  the  wandering 
fancy  of  her  royal  master. 

Mme.  Claes  was  ill  educated,  a  curious  circumstance,  but 
explainable  enough  in  the  daughter  of  a  Spanish  grandee. 
She  could  read  and  write,  but  until  her  parents  took  her  from 
the  convent  where  her  girlhood  was  spent  (that  is  to  say,  until 
she  was  twenty  years  old)  she  had  read  nothing,  but  the  works 
of  religious  ascetics.  On  her  entrance  into  society,  and  for  a 
little  while  after,  she  had  been  too  eager  for  amusement  to 
learn  anything  but  the  frivolous  arts  of  the  toilet ;  and 
later,  she  had  been  so  deeply  mortified  by  her  ignorance  that 
she  never  ventured  to  take  any  part  in  conversation,  and  was 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  33 

set  down  in  consequence  as  an  unintelligent  girl.  But  one 
result  of  her  neglected  and  mystical  education  had  been  that 
her  natural  capacities  for  thought  and  feeling  had  been 
unspoiled.  In  society  she  was  as  plain  and  uninteresting  as 
an  heiress;  but  for  her  husband  she  grew  beautiful  and 
thoughtful. 

Balthazar  made  some  attempt,  it  is  true,  in  the  early  years 
of  their  marriage  to  teach  his  wife,  so  that  she  might  not  feel 
at  a  disadvantage  in  this  way,  but  doubtless  he  was  too  late, 
for  Josephine  had  no  memory  save  that  of  the  heart.  She 
never  forgot  a  syllable  that  he  let  fall  concerning  themselves; 
every  least  detail  of  their  happy  life  was  fresh  in  her  mind, 
while  yesterday's  lesson  was  forgotten.  This  invincible 
ignorance  might  have  brought  about  serious  discords  between 
many  a  husband  and  wife ;  but  Mme.  Claes'  love  for  her 
husband  was  almost  a  religion,  and  the  intuition  of  passionate 
love  and  desire  to  preserve  her  happiness  had  made  her  quick- 
witted. She  so  contrived  matters  that  she  always  appeared  to 
understand,  and  her  ignorance  was  very  seldom  too  apparent. 
Not  only  so,  but  when  two  love  each  other  so  well  that  every 
day  seems  for  them  the  first  day  of  their  love,  such  vital 
happiness  has  a  marvelous  power  of  transforming  the  whole 
conditions  of  life.  Does  it  not  become  like  childhood,  care- 
less of  everything  that  is  not  love  or  joy  and  laughter? 

While  the  life  stirs  in  us,  and  its  fires  burn  fiercely,  we  let 
it  burn  unthriftily,  nor  set  ourselves  to  measure  the  means  or 
the  end.  For  the  rest,  Mme.  Claes  understood  her  position 
as  a  wife  better  than  any  daughter  of  Eve.  Her  character 
was  a  piquant  combination  of  Spanish  pride  with  the  sub- 
missiveness  of  the  Flamande  which  makes  the  domestic  hearth 
so  attractive.  She  was  dignified ;  she  could  command  respect 
by  a  glance  which  revealed  a  consciousness  of  her  own  value 
and  her  high  descent,  but  before  Claes  she  trembled.  She 
had  set  her  husband  so  on  high,  so  near  to  God,  that  the 
thought  of  what  he  would  say  or  think  controlled  her  every 
3 


34  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

thought  or  action,  and  her  love  had  come  to  have  a  tinge  of 
awe  which  heightened  it.  She  had  made  it  a  point  of  honor 
to  maintain  the  old  Flemish  bourgeois  traditions  of  the 
house ;  she  had  prided  herself  on  the  plenty  and  comfort  of 
her  housekeeping,  on  the  classic  cleanliness  of  every  detail ; 
everything  must  be  of  the  best,  every  dish  at  dinner  must  be 
exquisitely  cooked  and  served.  She  so  ruled  things  in  her 
household  that  all  their  outer  life  was  in  harmony  with  the 
life  of  the  heart. 

They  had  two  boys  and  two  girls.  The  oldest  child,  a  girl 
named  Marguerite,  was  born  in  1796  ;  the  youngest,  a  three- 
year-old  boy,  they  had  called  Jean  Balthazar.  Motherly  love 
was  almost  as  strong  in  Mme.  Claes  as  her  affection  for  her 
husband.  Sometimes,  especially  in  the  last  years  of  her  life, 
there  was  a  cruel  struggle  between  love  for  her  husband  and 
love  for  her  children,  when  two  claims  upon  her  heart  so 
nearly  equal  had  become  in  some  sort  antagonistic.  This  was 
the  domestic  drama  hidden  away  in  the  sleepy  old  house,  and 
in  the  scene  with  which  the  story  opens  her  tears  and  the 
anguish  on  her  face  were  caused  by  a  fear  that  she  had  sacri- 
ficed her  children  to  her  husband. 

In  1805  Mme.  Claes'  brother  had  died,  leaving  no  children. 
His  sister,  according  to  Spanish  law,  could  not  inherit  the 
estates,  which  passed  with  the  title  to  the  heir-at-law ;  but 
the  Duke  had  left  to  her  about  sixty  thousand  ducats,  and  the 
representative  of  the  younger  branch  of  the  house  did  not 
challenge  the  will.  No  thought  of  interest  had  ever  mingled 
with  their  love  ;  yet  Josephine  found  a  certain  satisfaction  in 
the  thought  that  her  fortune  now  equaled  that  of  her  hus- 
band, and  was  glad  that  in  her  turn  she  brought  something  to 
him  from  whom  she  had  been  generously  content  to  receive 
everything.  So  it  chanced  that  Balthazar's  marriage,  which 
prudent  people  had  condemned,  turned  out  to  be  a  good 
match  from  a  worldly  point  of  view. 

It  was  a  sufficiently  difficult  problem  to  know  what  to  do 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  35 

with  the  money.  The  Maison  Claes  was  so  rich  in  treasures 
of  art,  in  pictures  and  valuable  furniture,  that  it  was  scarcely 
possible  to  find  anything  worthy  of  being  added  to  such  a 
collection,  formed  by  the  taste  of  their  ancestors.  The  noble 
collection  of  pictures  had  been  begun  by  one  generation  and 
completed  by  those  that  followed,  a  love  of  art  having  thus 
become  a  family  tradition.  There  were  fifty  paintings  in  the 
state  apartments  on  the  first  floor,  and  in  the  long  gallery 
which  connected  those  rooms  with  the  quarter  in  which  the 
family  lived  there  were  more  than  a  hundred  famous  pictures 
by  Rubens,  Ruysdael,  Van  Dyck,  Terburg,  Gerard  Dow, 
Teniers,  Mieris,  Paul  Potter,  Wouwerman,  Rembrandt,  Hob- 
bema,  Cranach,  and  Holbein.  Three  centuries  of  patient 
research  had  assembled  them.  Examples  of  the  French  and 
Italian  schools  were  in  the  minority,  but  nevertheless  they 
were  all  of  them  genuine  and  of  capital  importance. 

Another  generation  had  been  amateurs  of  Oriental  porce- 
lain. Some  Claes,  long  dead  and  gone,  had  been  an  enthu- 
siastic collector  of  old  furniture  or  of  silver  plate  ;  Balthazar's 
own  father,  the  last  survivor  of  the  once  famous  Dutch  society, 
had  bequeathed  to  his  son  one  of  the  finest  known  collections 
of  tulips ;  there  was  not  a  Claes  but  had  left  some  trace  of 
his  ruling  passion,  and  every  Fleming  is  a  born  collector. 
The  old  house  was  superbly  furnished  with  heirlooms,  which 
represented  vast  sums  of  money.  Without,  it  was  as  smooth 
and  bare  as  a  sea-shell,  and  like  a  shell  it  was  decked  within 
with  fair  colors  and  radiant  mother-of-pearl. 

Balthazar  Claes  also  possessed  a  country  house  in  the  plain 
of  Orchies.  So  far  from  adopting  the  French  plan  and  living 
up  to  his  income,  he  never  spent  more  than  one-fourth  of  it, 
following  old  Batavian  usages.  This  put  him  on  the  same 
footing  as  the  wealthiest  persons  in  Douai,  for  their  yearly 
expenditure  never  exceeded  twelve  hundred  ducats. 

In  the  days  when  the  Civil  Code  became  the  law  of  the 
land,  the  wisdom  of  this  course  was  abundantly  evident.  By 


36  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

virtue  of  the  clause  des  Successions,  which  divides  the  estate 
in  equal  shares  among  the  children,  each  child's  share  would 
have  been  small,  and  the  treasures  stored  for  so  long  in  the 
house  of  Claes  must  have  one  day  been  dispersed.  With  his 
wife's  concurrence  Balthazar  invested  Mme.  Claes'  fortune  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  secure  to  each  of  their  children  a  position 
similar  to  that  in  which  they  had  been  brought  up,  and  the 
house  of  Claes  was  still  kept  up  on  the  old  footing.  They 
bought  woods  which  had  suffered  somewhat  in  the  recent 
wars,  but  which  in  ten  years'  time,  with  due  care,  were  likely 
to  increase  enormously  in  value. 

The  society  in  which  M.  Claes  moved  consisted  of  the 
oldest  families  of  Douai.  His  wife's  noble  qualities  and  char- 
acter were  so  thoroughly  appreciated,  that  by  a  sort  of  tacit 
agreement  the  social  regulations  so  stringently  enforced  in 
old-fashioned  towns  were  somewhat  relaxed  in  her  case. 
During  the  winter  months,  which  were  always  spent  in  Douai, 
she  seldom  left  her  house,  and  went  very  little  into  society — 
society  came  to  her.  She  received  every  Wednesday,  and 
gave  three  large  dinner  parties  every  month.  It  was  generally 
recognized  that  Mme.  Claes  felt  more  at  ease  in  her  own 
house,  and  she  herself  was  little  inclined  to  leave  it ;  her  love 
for  her  husband  and  her  children,  whom  she  was  bringing  up 
very  carefully,  kept  her  at  home. 

Until  the  year  1809  there  was  no  change  in  the  ways  of  the 
household,  thus  privileged  to  form  an  exception  to  accepted 
social  rules.  The  life  of  these  two  beings,  with  its  hidden 
depths  of  love  and  joy,  flowed  on  to  all  appearance  like  other 
lives.  Balthazar  Claes'  passion  for  his  wife,  which  she  had 
known  how  to  keep,  seemed,  as  he  himself  said,  to  have  deter- 
mined his  bent,  and  his  innate  perseverance  was  employed  in 
the  cultivation  of  happiness,  as  he  had  cultivated  tulips  in  his 
youth ;  it  absolved  him  from  the  necessity  for  a  mania  tradi- 
tional in  his  family.  But  at  the  end  of  the  year  a  change 
came  over  Balthazar ;  it  came  about  so  imperceptibly  that  at 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  37 

first  Mme.  Claes  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  ask  the  reason 
of  these  ominous  signs.  One  evening  he  seemed  preoccupied 
as  he  went  to  bed,  and  she  conscientiously  respected  his 
mood.  Her  woman's  tact  and  habits  of  submission  had 
always  led  her  to  wait  for  Balthazar's  confidence  ;  she  felt  far 
too  sure  of  his  affection  to  give  way  to  jealousy.  Yet  though 
she  knew  that  any  inquiry  would  meet  with  a  prompt  answer, 
the  old  impressions  of  early  life  had  given  her  an  instinctive 
dread  of  a  rebuff.  Her  husband's  moral  malady  went  through 
many  stages,  and  only  by  slow  degrees  did  it  assume  an  acute 
form,  and  grow  so  intolerably  violent  that  at  last  the  happi- 
ness of  a  whole  household  was  destroyed.  However  engross- 
ing Balthazar's  thoughts  might  be,  he  was  ready  for  many 
months  to  lay  them  aside  to  talk  with  her ;  and  there  was  no 
alteration  in  his  affection,  his  frequent  silent  moods  were  the 
only  indications  of  the  change  that  was  being  wrought  in  his 
character. 

It  was  long  before  Mme.  Claes  gave  up  the  hope  that  her 
husband  would  approach  the  subject  himself  and  tell  her  about 
his  mysterious  preoccupations.  Sometimes  she  thought  that 
he  was  waiting  until  there  should  be  some,  practical  result  of 
his  labors ;  there  is  a  kind  of  pride  in  so  many  men  which 
leads  them  to  fight  their  battles  alone  and  to  appear  only  as 
victors.  In  that  day  of  triumph  the  light  of  happiness  would 
shine  all  the  more  brightly  for  being  withdrawn  for  a  while, 
and  Balthazar's  love  would  fill  up  all  the  blank  spaces  in  the 
page  of  life,  blanks  for  which  his  heart  was  not  to  blame. 
Josephine  knew  her  husband  well  enough  to  know  that  he 
would  never  forgive  himself  if  he  discovered  that  his  Pcpita's 
happiness  had  been  overcast  for  so  many  months.  So  she 
kept  silence,  and  felt  it  a  kind  of  joy  to  suffer  through  him 
and  for  him ;  for  in  her  passion  there  was  a  trace  of  the  piety 
of  the  Spaniard,  which  can  never  distinguish  between  religion 
and  love,  and  cannot  understand  a  love  without  suffering. 
She  waited  for  a  return  of  affection,  saying  to  herself  every 


38  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

evening,  "It  will  surely  come  to-morrow!  "as  if  love  were 
an  absent  wanderer.  During  all  these  secret  troubles  she  was 
expecting  her  youngest  child.  There  had  been  a  horrible 
revelation  of  a  wretched  future.  Everything  seemed  to  draw 
her  husband  from  her,  and  even  in  his  love  he  was  preoccu- 
pied. Her  woman's  pride,  wounded  for  the  first  time, 
sounded  the  depths  of  the  mysterious  gulf  which  separated 
her  from  the  Claes  of  their  early  married  life.  From  that 
time  things  grew  worse  and  worse.  Claes,  who  but  lately  had 
been  immersed  in  family  happiness,  who  played  with  his 
children  for  whole  hours  together  at  romping  games  on  the 
carpet,  in  the  parlor,  or  in  the  garden  walks,  who  seemed  as 
if  he  could  only  live  beneath  the  dark  eyes  of  his  Pepita,  did 
not  notice  his  wife's  condition,  forgot  to  share  in  the  family 
life,  and  seemed  to  forget  his  own  existence. 

The  longer  Mme.  Claes  delayed  to  ask  the  reason  of  his 
preoccupation,  the  more  her  courage  failed  her.  Her  blood 
seemed  to  boil  at  the  thought,  and  her  voice  died  in  her 
throat.  At  last  she  felt  convinced  that  her  husband  had 
ceased  to  care  for  her,  and  grew  seriously  alarmed.  This 
dread  grew  upon  her ;  she  brooded  over  it  till  her  hours  were 
filled  with  unhappy  musings  and  feverish  excitement,  and  she 
began  to  despair.  She  justified  Balthazar  at  her  own  expense, 
telling  herself  that  she  was  old  and  ugly.  Then  it  seemed 
to  her  that  she  saw  a  generous  motive,  humiliating  though  it 
might  be  to  her  pride,  in  his  absorption  in  his  work  ;  it  was  a 
kind  of  negative  faithfulness;  she  determined  to  give  him 
back  his  independence  by  bringing  about  a  secret  divorce,  that 
clue  to  the  apparent  happiness  of  not  a  few  households.  Yet 
before  renouncing  their  old  life,  she  made  an  effort  to  read 
her  husband's  heart — and  found  it  shut. 

She  saw  how  Balthazar,  by  slow  degrees,  became  indifferent 
to  everything  that  had  once  been  dear  to  him ;  he  cared  no 
longer  for  his  tulips  in  flower  ;  he  seemed  to  have  forgotten  the 
very  existence  of  his  children.  Clearly  this  passion  was  one 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  39 

of  those  that  lie  without  the  pale  of  the  heart's  affections,  but 
which  no  less,  as  women  think,  dry  up  the  springs  of  affec- 
tion. Love  slept,  but  had  not  fled.  This  was  some  comfort, 
though  the  trouble  itself  remained  as  heretofore ;  and  hope, 
the  explanation  of  all  situations  like  these,  prolonged  the 
crisis. 

Sometimes,  just  as  the  poor  wife's  despair  had  grown  to 
such  a  pitch  that  she  had  gathered  courage  to  question  her 
husband,  there  would  be  a  brief  interval  of  happiness,  and 
Balthazar  would  make  it  clear  to  her  that  though  he  might  be 
in  the  clutches  of  some  diabolical  thought,  it  was  a  thought 
which  still  permitted  him  to  be  himself  again  at  times.  In 
these  brief  moments,  when  her  sky  grew  brighter,  she  was  too 
eager  to  enjoy  the  gleam  of  happiness,  too  afraid  to  lose  any 
of  it  by  her  importunity,  to  ask  for  an  explanation  ;  and  just 
as  she  nerved  herself  to  speak,  he  would  escape  her.  While 
the  words  were  on  her  lips,  Balthazar  would  suddenly  leave 
her,  or  he  would  fall  into  deep  musings  from  which  nothing 
could  arouse  him. 

Before  very  long  there  set  in  a  reaction  of  the  mental  on  the 
physical  existence.  The  havoc  thus  wrought  was  scarcely 
visible  at  first,  save  to  the  eyes  of  a  loving  woman,  who 
watched  for  a  clue  to  her  husband's  inmost  thoughts  in  their 
slightest  manifestations.  She  could  often  scarcely  keep  back 
the  tears  as  she  saw  him  fling  himself  down  after  dinner  into 
an  easy-chair  by  the  fireside,  and  sit  there  with  his  eyes  fixed 
on  one  of  the  dark  panels,  gloomy,  abstracted,  utterly  heed- 
less of  the  dead  silence  about  him.  She  watched,  too,  with 
an  aching  heart  the  gradual  changes  for  the  worse  in  the  face 
that  love  had  made  sublime  for  her  ;  it  seemed  as  if  the  life  of 
the  soul  was  day  by  day  withdrawing  itself  and  leaving  an 
expressionless  mask.  At  times  his  eyes  grew  glassy,  as  if  the 
faculty  of  sight  in  them  had  been  converted  to  a  power  of 
inner  vision.  After  the  children  had  gone  to  bed,  after  long 
silent  hours  full  of  painful  and  solitary  brooding,  poor  Pepita 


40  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

would  venture  to  ask,  "  Do  you  feel  ill,  dear?  "  Sometimes 
Balthazar  would  not  answer  at  all,  or  he  came  to  himself  with 
a  start  like  a  man  suddenly  awakened  from  sleep,  and  said, 
"No,"  in  harsh,  sepulchral  tones,  which  fell  heavily  on  his 
wife's  quivering  heart. 

Josephine  tried  at  first  to  keep  this  anomalous  state  of 
things  in  their  household  a  secret  from  the  outer  world,  but 
this  proved  to  be  impossible.  Balthazar's  behavior  was  known 
and  discussed  in  every  coterie,  in  every  salon  ;  and,  as  fre- 
quently happens  in  little  towns,  certain  circles  were  better 
informed  as  to  the  Claes'  affairs  than  Mme.  Claes  herself. 
Several  of  her  friends  broke  through  the  silence  prescribed  by 
politeness,  and  showed  so  much  solicitude  on  her  account, 
that  she  hastened  to  explain  her  husband's  singular  conduct. 

"  M.  Balthazar,"  she  said,  "  was  engaged  on  a  great  work. 
It  took  up  all  his  time  and  energies ;  but  if  it  succeeded,  it 
would  make  him  famous,  and  his  native  town  would  have 
reason  to  be  proud  of  him." 

Patriotic  enthusiasm  runs  high  in  Douai ;  you  would  be 
hard  put  to  it  to  find  a  town  more  eager  for  distinction  ;  the 
prospect  of  glory  was  gratifying  to  local  vanity ;  there  was  a 
reaction  in  people's  minds,  and  M.  Claes'  proceedings  were 
viewed  more  respectfully. 

His  wife's  guesses  were  not  so  very  far  from  the  truth. 
Workmen  had  been  employed  for  some  time  past  in  the  garret 
above  the  state  apartments,  whither  Balthazar  went  every 
morning.  He  spent  more  and  more  of  his  time  up  there  now, 
until  at  last  he  was  in  the  garret  all  day  long,  and  his  wife  and 
the  rest  of  the  family  fell  in  with  the  new  ways  by  degrees. 

But  Mme.  Claes  had  yet  to  learn,  to  her  unspeakable  an- 
guish, that  her  husband  was  always  buying  scientific  apparatus 
in  Paris;  that  books,  machines,  and  costly  materials  of  all 
kinds  were  being  sent  to  him ;  and  that  he  was  bent  on  dis- 
covering the  philosopher's  stone.  All  this  she  must  hear 
through  the  officious  kindness  of  friends  who  were  surprised 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  41 

to  find  her  in  ignorance  of  her  husband's  doings.  It  was  a 
bitter  humiliation.  These  friends  proceeded  to  say  that  she 
ought  to  think  of  her  children  and  of  her  own  future,  and  that 
she  would  be  doing  very  wrong  if  she  did  not  use  her  influ- 
ence with  her  husband  to  turn  him  from  the  paths  of  error 
into  which  he  had  strayed.  Mme.  Claes  might  summon  a 
great  lady's  insolence  to  her  aid/  and  silence  this  absurd  talk ; 
but  a  sudden  terror  seized  her  in  spite  of  her  confident  tone, 
and  she  determined  that  she  would  no  longer  efface  herself. 
She  would  choose  her  ground,  and  speak  to  her  husband  on 
an  equal  footing ;  and  so,  feeling  less  tremulous,  she  ventured 
to  ask  Balthazar  for  the  cause  of  the  change  in  him  and  the 
reason  of  his  continual  seclusion.  The  Fleming  frowned  as 
he  answered  her — 

"  My  dear,  you  would  not  understand  it  in  the  least." 
One  day  Josephine  had  begged  hard  to  know  this  secret, 
playfully  grumbling  that  she  who  shared  his  life  might  not 
share  all  his  thoughts. 

"If  you  want  to  know  about  it  so  much,"  Balthazar  an- 
swered, seeing  his  wife  on  her  knees,  "  I  will  tell  you.  I  am 
studying  chemistry,"  he  said,  stroking  her  black  hair,  "and 
I  am  the  happiest  man  in  the  world." 

Two  years  after  the  winter  in  which  M.  Claes  began  his 
experiments,  the  house  was  no  longer  the  same.  Perhaps  the 
chemist's  abstracted  ways  had  given  offence;  perhaps  his 
acquaintances  felt  themselves  to  be  in  the  way;  or  it  may 
have  been  that  the  anxieties  of  which  Mme.  Claes  never  spoke 
had  altered  her,  and  people  found  her  less  charming  than 
heretofore.  Whatever  the  cause  might  be,  she  only  received 
visits  from  her  most  intimate  friends,  and  Balthazar  went  no- 
where. He  shut  himself  up  in  his  laboratory  all  day,  and 
sometimes  all  night ;  his  family  never  saw  him  except  at 
dinner.  After  the  second  year  the  winter  and  summer  were 
alike  spent  in  Douai ;  his  wife  had  no  desire  to  leave  Balthazar 
and  go  alone  to  their  country  house. 


42  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

Balthazar  would  take  long  solitary  walks,  sometimes  only 
returning  on  the  following  day.  Those  were  long  nights  of 
sickening  anxiety  for  his  wife.  In  Douai,  as  in  most  fortified 
towns,  the  gates  of  the  city  were  shut  at  a  fixed  hour ;  when 
search  and  inquiry  within  the  walls  had  been  made  in  vain, 
poor  Mme.  Claes  had  not  even  the  support  of  expectation, 
half-hope,  half-anguish,  and  must  wait  till  morning  as  best 
she  might.  And  in  the  morning  Balthazar  would  return  as  if 
nothing  had  happened.  He  had  simply  forgotton,  in  his  ab- 
straction, the  hour  at  which  the  gates  were  closed,  and  had  no 
suspicion  of  the  torture  which  he  had  inflicted  on  his  family. 
The  joy  and  relief  were  nearly  as  perilous  for  Mme.  Claes  as 
terror  and  suspense  had  been.  She  made  no  comment ;  she 
never  spoke  to  him  of  his  wanderings.  Once  she  had  begun 
to  ask  a  question,  and  she  had  not  forgotten  the  tone  of 
amazement  in  which  he  answered — 

"  Why,  cannot  one  take  a  walk?  " 

The  passions  cannot  be  deceived.  Mme.  Claes'  own  mis- 
givings bore  witness  to  the  truth  of  the  reports  which  she  had 
at  first  so  lightly  contradicted.  She  had  suffered  so  much  from 
polite  conventional  sympathy  in  her  youth  that  she  had  no 
wish  to  experience  it  a  second  time.  She  therefore  immured 
herself  more  closely  than  ever  in  her  home,  her  acquaintances 
dropped  off,  and  her  few  remaining  friends  soon  followed 
suit.  This  materially  added  to  her  discomfiture,  and  gave  her 
additional  annoyance  and  worriment. 

Balthazar's  slovenly  attire  was  by  no  means  the  least  of  her 
troubles.  There  is  always  something  degrading  in  neglect  of 
this  kind  for  a  man  who  belongs  to  the  upper  classes ;  and  she 
felt  it  all  the  more  keenly,  because  she  had  been  used  to  a 
Flemish  refinement  of  cleanliness.  With  the  help  of  Lemul- 
quinier,  her  husband's  valet,  Josephine  tried  for  a  while  to 
repair  the  havoc  wrought  by  these  pursuits  ;  but  the  new  gar- 
ments with  which,  without  Claes'  knowledge,  she  replaced  the 
torn,  burnt,  and  stained  clothing,  were  little  better  than  rags 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  43 

by   the   end   of  the   day,  and   she   gave  up  the  attempt   in 

despair. 

After  fifteen  years  of  happiness,  it  seemed  to  the  wife,  who 
had  never  known  a  pang  of  jealousy,  that  she  counted  for 
nothing  in  the  heart  where  she  had  reigned  but  lately,  and  the 
Spaniard  in  her  nature  awoke.  Science  was  her  rival.  Science 
had  won  her  husband's  heart  from  her,  and  love  renewed  its 
strength  in  the  fires  of  jealousy  that  consumed  her  heart. 
But  what  could  she  do?  What  resistance  could  she  make 
against  this  slowly-growing  tyrannous  power  that  never  relaxed 
its  hold — this  invisible  rival  who  could  not  be  slain?  A 
woman's  power  is  limited  by  nature  ;  how  can  she  engage  in 
a  struggle  with  an  idea,  with  the  infinite  delights  of  thought 
and  charms  that  are  always  renewed  ?  What  could  she  attempt 
in  the  face  of  the  coquetries  of  ideas  which  take  new  forms 
and  grow  fairer  amid  difficulties,  which  beckon  to  the  seeker, 
and  lure  him  on  so  far  from  the  world  that  he  grows  forgetful 
of  all  things  else,  and  human  love  and  human  ties  are  as 
nothing  to  him? 

A  day  came  at  last  when,  in  spite  of  strict  orders  from  Bal- 
thazar, his  wife  determined  that  at  least  in  bodily  presence  she 
would  be  near  him  ;  she  also  would  live  in  the  garret  where  he 
had  shut  himself  up,  and  meet  her  rival  there  on  her  own  ground 
and  at  close  quarters ;  she  would  be  with  her  husband  during 
the  long  hours  which  he  lavished  on  the  terrible  mistress  who 
had  won  his  heart  from  her.  She  meant  to  steal  into  the 
mysterious  workshop,  and  to  earn  the  right  of  remaining 
there.  But  as  she  dreaded  an  explosion  of  wrath,  and  feared 
a  witness  of  the  scene,  she  waited  for  a  day  when  her  husband 
should  be  alone,  before  making  her  effort  to  share  with  Lemul- 
quinier  the  right  of  entry  into  the  laboratory.  For  some 
time  she  had  watched  the  man's  comings  and  goings,  and  al- 
most hated  him.  Was  it  not  intolerable  that  the  servant 
should  know  all  that  she  longed  to  learn,  all  that  her  husband 
hid  from  her,  and  that  she  did  not  dare  to  ask?  It  seemed  to 


44  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

her  that  Lemulquinier  was  more  privileged,  and  stood  higher 
in  her  husband's  estimation  than  she,  his  own  wife. 

So  she  went  to  the  garret,  trembling,  yet  almost  happy,  and 
for  the  first  time  in  her  life  was  made  to  feel  Balthazar's  anger. 
Scarcely  had  she  opened  the  door,  when  he  rushed  forward 
and  seized  her,  and  pushed  her  out  on  to  the  staircase  so 
roughly  that  she  narrowly  escaped  a  headlong  fall. 

"God  be  praised  !  You  are  still  alive  !  "  cried  Balthazar, 
as  he  helped  her  to  rise. 

The  splinters  of  a  shattered  glass  mask  fell  about  Mme. 
Claes  ;  she  looked  up  and  saw  her  husband's  face,  white,  hag- 
gard, and  terrified. 

"  Dear,  I  told  you  not  to  come  here,"  he  gasped,  sinking 
down  on  a  step  as  if  all  his  strength  had  left  him.  "The 
saints  have  saved  your  life.  I  wonder  how  it  chanced  that  my 
eyes  were  fixed  on  the  door  just  then.  We  were  all  but 
killed  !  " 

"  I  should  have  been  very  happy  to  die  so,"  she  said. 

"My  experiment  is  utterly  ruined,"  Balthazar  went  on. 
"  I  could  not  forgive  any  one  else  for  causing  me  such  a 
grievous  disappointment ;  it  is  too  painful.  In  another  mo- 
ment I  should  perhaps  have  decomposed  nitrogen  ! There, 

go  back  to  your  own  affairs,"  and  Balthazar  returned  to  his 
laboratory. 

"I  should  perhaps  have  decomposed  nitrogen  !"  the  poor 
wife  said  to  herself,  as  she  went  back  to  her  own  room ;  and 
once  there,  she  burst  into  tears. 

The  phrase  conveyed  no  meaning  to  her.  Men,  whose 
education  gives  them  a  certain  readiness  to  deal  with  new 
ideas,  do  not  know  how  painful  it  is  to  a  woman  to  lack  the 
power  to  understand  the  thoughts  of  the  man  she  loves. 
These  divine  creatures  are  more  indulgent  than  we  are  ;  they 
do  not  tell  us  when  they  fail  to  find  response  to  the  language 
of  their  souls  ;  they  shrink  from  making  us  feel  the  superiority 
of  their  sentiments,  dissemble  their  pain  joyfully,  and  are 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  45 

silent  about  the  pleasures  that  we  do  not  enter  into.  But  they 
are  more  ambitious  in  love  than  we  are ;  they  must  do  more 
than  wed  a  man's  heart,  they  must  share  his  thoughts  as  well. 
Ignorance  of  her  husband's  scientific  pursuits  gave  Mme. 
Claes  a  more  intolerable  heartache  than  a  rival's  beauty  could 
have  caused.  The  woman  who  loves  the  most  is  at  least  con- 
scious of  this  advantage  over  her  rival ;  but  such  neglect  as 
this  left  her  face  to  face  with  her  utter  helplessness ;  it  was  a 
humiliating  indifference  to  all  the  affections  that  help  us  to 
live. 

Josephine  loved,  but  she  did  not  know ;  and  her  want  of 
knowledge  separated  her  from  her  husband.  But  besides  this 
and  beyond  this,  there  lay  a  last  extremity  of  torture  ;  he  was 
often  between  life  and  death,  it  seemed ;  under  the  same  roof, 
and  yet  far  from  her,  he  was  risking  his  life  without  her 
knowledge,  in  dangers  which  she  might  not  share.  It  was  like 
hell — a  prison  for  the  soul  from  which  there  was  no  way  of 
escape,  where  there  was  no  hope  left.  Mme.  Claes  deter- 
mined that  at  any  rate  she  would  learn  in  what  the  attractions 
of  this  science  consisted,  and  privately  set  herself  to  read 
works  on  chemistry.  Then  the  house  became  like  a  convent. 

The  "  Maison  Claes"  had  passed  through  all  these  succes- 
sive changes,  and  by  the  time  that  this  story  commences  was 
almost  "dead  to  the  world." 

The  crisis  grew  more  complicated.  Like  all  impassioned 
natures,  Mme.  Claes  never  thought  of  herself;  and  those  who 
know  love,  know  that  where  affection  is  concerned  money  is 
of  small  moment,  and  interest  and  affection  are  almost  incom- 
patible. Yet  it  was  not  without  a  cruel  pang  that  Josephine 
learned  that  there  was  a  mortgage  of  three  hundred  thousand 
francs  on  her  husband's  estates.  There  were  documents 
which  proved  this  beyond  a  doubt,  and  gave  occasion  for 
gossip  and  dismayed  conjecture  in  the  town.  Mme.  Claes, 
justly  alarmed,  felt  compelled,  proud  though  she  was,  to  make 
inquiries  of  her  husband's  notary,  to  confide  her  anxieties  to 


46  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

him,  or  to  enable  him  to  guess  them ;  and  was  forced  to  hear 
from  the  lips  of  the  man  of  business  the  humiliating  inquiry, 
"Then  has  not  M.  Claes  as  yet  said  anything  to  you  about 
it?" 

Luckily,  Balthazar's  notary  was  almost  a  relation.  M. 
Claes'  grandfather  had  married  one  of  the  Pierquins  of  Ant- 
werp, of  the  same  family  as  the  Pierquins  of  Douai ;  and  ever 
since  the  marriage  the  latter  branch,  though  scarcely  ac- 
quainted with  the  Claes,  had  looked  upon  them  as  cousins. 
M.  Pierquin,  a  young  man  of  six-and-twenty,  had  just  suc- 
ceeded to  his  father's  position;  he  alone,  in  his  quality  of 
notary  and  kinsman,  had  the  right  of  entry  to  the  house. 
Mme.  Balthazar  Claes  had  lived  for  many  months  in  such 
complete  seclusion  that  she  was  obliged  to  go  to  him  for 
information  of  a  disaster  which  was  already  known  to  every 
one  in  Douai. 

Pierquin  told  her  that  in  all  probability  large  sums  were 
owing  to  the  firm  which  supplied  her  husband  with  chemicals. 
This  firm,  after  making  inquiries,  had  executed  all  M.  Claes' 
orders  without  hesitation,  and  let  him  have  unlimited  credit. 
Mme.  Claes  commissioned  Pierquin  to  ask  them  for  an  account 
of  the  goods  supplied  to  her  husband.  Two  months  later,  MM. 
Protez  and  Chiffreville,  manfacturing  chemists,  sent  in  a  state- 
ment by  which  it  appeared  that  a  hundred  thousand  francs 
were  owing  to  them. 

Mme.  Claes  and  Pierquin  studied  the  document  with  amaze- 
ment that  increased  with  each  fresh  item.  Among  enigmatical 
entries,  commercial  expressions,  and  undecipherable  scientific 
hieroglyphs,  it  gave  them  a  shock  to  find  mention  of  diamonds 
and  precious  metals,  albeit  in  small  quantities,  and  of  myste- 
rious substances,  apparently  so  difficult  to  procure  or  to  pro- 
duce that  they  were  enormously  valuable.  The  vast  number 
of  different  items,  the  cost  of  carriage  and  of  packing  valuable 
scientific  instruments  and  delicately  adjusted  machinery  for 
transit,  the  expense  of  all  the  apparatus,  together  with  the 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  47 

fact  that  many  of  the  chemical  compounds  had  been  specially 
prepared  by  M.  Claes'  directions,  accounted  sufficiently  for 
the  startling  amount  of  the  total. 

In  the  interests  of  his  cousin,  the  notary  made  inquiries 
concerning  MM.  Protez  and  Chiffreville,  and  the  accounts 
which  he  received  of  them  convinced  him  that  they  had  been 
perfectly  honest  in  their  dealings  with  M.  Claes  ;  indeed,  they 
had  been  more  than  honest,  they  had  gone  out  of  their  way 
to  keep  him  informed  of  the  discoveries  of  Parisian  chemists 
in  order  to  save  him  expense. 

Mme.  Claes  entreated  Pierquin  to  keep  the  singular  nature 
of  these  transactions  a  secret.  If  they  were  known  in  the 
town,  all  Douai  would  say  at  once  that  her  husband  was  mad. 
But  Pierquin  told  her  that  this  was  impossible  ;  that  he  had 
obtained  all  possible  delay  already  ;  and  that  as  the  bills  for 
such  large  amounts  had  been  formally  noted,  the  secret  was 
not  in  his  keeping.  He  laid  bare  the  whole  extent  of  the 
wound,  telling  his  cousin  that  if  she  could  not  contrive  to 
prevent  her  husband  from  squandering  his  money  in  this 
reckless  way,  the  family  estates  would  be  mortgaged  up  to 
their  value  in  less  than  six  months.  As  to  making  any  effort 
himself,  he  added  that  he,  Pierquin,  had  spoken  to  his  cousin 
on  the  subject,  with  due  deference,  more  than  once,  and  that 
it  had  been  utterly  useless.  Balthazar  had  answered  once  for 
all  that  in  all  his  researches  his  object  was  to  make  a  fortune 
and  a  famous  name  for  his  family.  So  in  addition  to  the 
anguish  which  had  clutched  at  Josephine's  heart  for  the  past 
two  years — a  cumulative  torture,  in  which  every  sad  or  happy 
memory  of  the  past  added  to  the  pain  of  the  present — she 
was  to  know  a  horrible  unceasing  dread  of  worse  to  follow, 
of  an  appalling  future. 

A  woman's  presentiments  are  often  marvelously  correct. 
How  is  it  that  women  fear  so  far  oftener  than  they  hope  in  all 
matters  relating  to  this  present  life.  Why  do  they  reserve  all 
their  faith  for  religious  beliefs  in  a  future  world  ?  How  is  it 


48  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

that  they  are  so  quick  to  discern  coming  trouble  or  any  turn- 
ing-point in  our  career?  Perhaps  the  very  closeness  of  the 
tie  that  binds  a  woman  to  the  man  she  loves  makes  her  an 
admirable  judge  of  his  capacity  and  with  the  instinct  of  love 
she  estimates  his  faculties  and  knows  his  tastes,  his  passions, 
his  faults,  and  good  qualities.  She  is  always  studying  these 
forces  of  man's  destiny,  and  with  the  intimate  knowledge  of 
the  causes  comes  the  fatal  gift  of  foreseeing  their  effects  under 
all  conceivable  conditions.  Women  derive  their  insight  into 
the  future  from  their  clear-sightedness  in  such  things  as  they 
see  in  the  present,  and  the  accuracy  of  their  forecasts  is  due 
to  the  perfection  of  their  nervous  organization,  which  enables 
them  to  detect  and  interpret  the  slightest  sign  of  thought  or 
feeling.  They  feel  the  great  storms  that  shake  another  soul, 
and  every  fibre  in  them  vibrates  in  harmony.  They  feel  or 
they  see.  And  Mme.  Claes,  though  estranged  from  her  hus- 
band for  two  years,  felt  that  the  loss  of  their  fortune  was  im- 
pending. 

In  Balthazar's  passionate  persistence  she  had  seen  the  reflec- 
tion of  his  fiery  enthusiasm.  If  it  were  true  that  he  was  trying 
to  discover  the  secret  of  making  gold,  he  would  certainly 
fling  his  last  morsel  of  bread  into  the  crucible  with  perfect 
indifference;  but  what  was  he  seeking  to  discover? 

So  far  she  had  loved  husband  and  children  without  attempt- 
ing to  distinguish  the  claims  of  either  upon  her  heart.  Bal- 
thazar had  loved  the  children  as  she  did ;  the  children  had 
never  come  between  them.  Now,  all  at  once  she  discovered 
that  she  was  at  times  more  a  mother  than  a  wife,  as  heretofore 
she  had  been  a  wife  rather  than  a  mother.  Yet  she  felt  that 
she  was  ready  even  yet  to  sacrifice  herself,  her  fortune,  and 
her  children  to  the  welfare  of  the  man  who  had  loved  and 
chosen  and  adored  her,  the  man  for  whom  she  was  still  the 
only  woman  in  the  world ;  and  then  came  remorse  that  she 
should  love  her  children  so  little,  and  despair  at  being 
placed  between  two  hideous  alternatives.  Her  heart  suffered 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  49 

as  a  wife,  as  a  mother  she  suffered  in  her  children,  and  as  a 
Christian  she  suffered  for  it  all.  She  said  nothing  of  the 
terrible  conflict  in  her  soul.  After  all,  her  husband  was  the 
sole  arbiter  of  their  fate ;  he  was  the  master  who  must  shape 
their  destinies ;  he  was  accountable  to  God  and  to  none  other. 
How  could  she  reproach  him  with  putting  her  fortune  to  such 
uses,  after  the  disinterestedness  which  had  been  so  amply 
proved  during  the  first  ten  years  of  their  married  life  ?  Was 
she  a  judge  of  his  designs  ?  And  yet  her  conscience  asserted 
what  she  knew  to  be  in  keeping  with  all  laws  written  and 
unwritten,  that  parents  possess  their  fortune  not  for  themselves, 
but  for  their  children,  and  have  no  right  to  alienate  the  worldly 
wealth  which  they  hold  in  trust  for  them. 

Rather  than  take  it  upon  herself  to  solve  these  intricate 
problems,  she  had  chosen  to  shut  her  eyes  to  them ;  like  a 
man  on  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  who  will  not  look  into  the 
yawning  depths  into  which  he  knows  that  he  must  sooner  or 
later  fall. 

For  the  past  six  months  her  husband  had  allowed  her  noth- 
ing for  housekeeping  expenses.  The  magnificent  diamonds 
which  her  brother  had  given  to  her  on  the  day  of  her  marriage 
had  been  secretly  sold  in  Paris,  and  she  had  put  the  whole 
household  on  the  most  economical  footing.  She  had  dis- 
missed the  children's  governess,  and  even  little  Jean's  nurse. 
Formerly  the  luxury  of  a  carriage  had  been  quite  unknown 
among  the  Flemish  burghers,  who  lived  so  simply  and  held 
their  heads  so  high.  So  there  had  been  no  provision  in  the 
Maison  Claes  itself  for  this  modern  innovation,  and  Balthazar 
had  been  obliged  to  have  his  stables  and  coach-house  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  street.  Since  he  had  been  absorbed  in 
chemistry  he  had  ceased  to  superintend  that  part  of  the  menage, 
essentially  a  man's  province,  and  Mme.  Claes  put  down  the 
carriage.  She  was  so  much  of  a  recluse  that  the  expense  was 
as  useless  as  it  was  heavy ;  and  this  would  have  been  reason 
sufficient  to  give  for  her  retrenchments,  but  she  did  not 
4 


50  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE, 

attempt  to  give  color  to  them  by  any  pretexts.  Hitherto  facts 
had  given  the  lie  to  her  words,  and  now  silence  became  her 
best. 

Such  changes  as  these,  moreover,  were  almost  inexcusable 
in  Holland,  where  any  one  who  lives  up  to  his  income  is 
looked  on  as  a  madman.  Only  as  her  oldest  girl,  Marguerite, 
was  now  nearly  sixteen  years  old,  Josephine  would  wish  her 
to  make  a  great  match,  it  was  thought,  and  to  establish  her  in 
the  world  in  a  manner  befitting  the  daughter  of  the  house  of 
Claes,  connected  as  it  was  with  the  Molinas,  the  Van  Ostrom- 
Temnincks,  and  the  Casa-Reals.  The  money  realized  by  the 
sale  of  the  diamonds  had  been  exhausted  some  few  days 
before  the  opening  scene  of  this  story.  On  that  very  after- 
noon, as  Mme.  Claes  had  met  Pierquin  on  her  way  to  vespers 
with  her  children,  he  had  turned  and  walked  with  them  as  far 
as  the  Church  of  Saint  Pierre,  talking  confidentially  the  while. 

"It  would  be  a  breach  of  the  friendship  which  attaches  me 
to  your  family,"  he  said,  "if  I  were  to  attempt  to  conceal 
from  you,  cousin,  the  risks  you  are  running.  I  must  implore 
you  to  set  them  before  your  husband.  Who  else  has  influence 
sufficient  to  arrest  him  on  the  brink  of  the  precipice  ?  Your 
estates  are  so  heavily  mortgaged  that  they  will  scarcely  pay 
interest  on  the  sums  borrowed.  At  this  moment  you  have  no 
income  whatever.  If  you  once  cut  down  the  woods,  your 
last  hope  of  salvation  will  be  gone.  Cousin  Balthazar  owes 
thirty  thousand  francs  to  Protez  and  Chiffreville  in  Paris ; 
how  will  you  pay  them  ?  How  are  you  going  to  live?  And 
what  will  become  of  you  if  Claes  keeps  on  buying  acids  and 
alkalis,  and  glassware,  and  voltaic  batteries,  and  such  like 
gimcracks  ?  All  your  fortune  has  flown  off  in  gas  and  smuts  ; 
you  have  nothing  but  the  house  and  the  furniture  left.  A 
couple  of  days  ago  there  was  some  talk  of  mortgaging  the 
house  itself,  and  what  do  you  think  Claes  said  ? — '  The 
devil !'  'Tis  the  first  sign  of  sense  he  has  shown  these  three 
years." 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  51 

Mme.  Claes  in  her  distress  clutched  Pierquin's  arm. 
"Keep  our  secret!"  she  entreated,  raising  her  eyes  to 
heaven. 

The  words  had  fallen  like  a  thunderbolt.  She  sat  quietly 
on  her  chair  among  her  children,  so  overcome  that  she  could 
not  pray.  Her  prayer  book  lay  open  on  her  knee,  but  she 
never  turned  a  leaf ;  her  painful  thoughts  were  as  all-absorb- 
ing as  her  husband's  musings.  The  sounds  of  the  organ  fell 
on  her  ears,  but  Spanish  pride  and  Flemish  integrity  sent 
louder  echoes  through  her  soul.  The  ruin  of  her  children 
was  complete !  She  could  no  longer  hesitate  between  their 
claims  and  their  father's  honor.  The  immediate  prospect  of 
a  collision  with  Claes  appalled  her ;  he  was  so  great  in  her 
eyes,  so  much  above  her,  that  the  bare  idea  of  his  anger  was 
scarcely  less  fearful  than  the  thought  of  the  wrath  of  God. 
She  could  no  longer  be  so  devoutly  submissive,  a  change  had 
come  over  her  life.  For  her  children's  sake  she  must  thwart 
the  wishes  of  the  husband  whom  she  idolized. 

His  thoughts  soared  among  the  far-off  heights  of  science, 
but  she  must  bring  him  down  to  the  problems  of  every-day 
existence  ;  must  break  in  upon  his  dreams  of  a  fair  future,  and 
confront  him  with  the  present  in  its  most  prosaic  aspect,  with 
practical  details  revolting  to  artists  and  great  men.  For  his 
wife,  Balthazar  Claes  was  a  giant  intellect,  a  man  whose  great- 
ness the  world  would  one  day  recognize  ;  he  could  only  have 
forgotten  her  for  the  most  splendid  hopes  ;  and  then  he  was  so 
able,  so  wise  and  far-seeing,  she  had  heard  him  speak  so  well 
on  so  many  subjects,  that  she  felt  no  doubt  that  he  spoke  the 
truth  when  he  said  that  his  researches  were  to  bring  fame  and 
a  fortune  to  them  all.  His  love  for  his  wife  and  children  was 
not  only  great,  it  was  boundless ;  how  could  such  love  come 
to  an  end  ?  Doubtless  it  was  stronger  and  deeper  than  ever, 
it  was  only  the  form  that  was  changed  ;  and  she  who  was  so 
nobly  disinterested,  so  generous  and  sensitive,  must  con- 
tinually sound  the  word  "  money  "  in  the  great  man's  ears ; 


52  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

must  make  him  see  poverty  in  its  ugliest  shape,  and  the  rattle 
of  coin  and  cries  of  distress  must  break  in  on  the  sweet  voices 
that  sang  of  fame. 

And  suppose  that  Balthazar's  affection  for  her  should  grow 
less?  Ah  !  if  she  had  had  no  children,  how  bravely  and  gladly 
she  would  have  faced  the  change  he  had  wrought  in  her  des- 
tiny !  Women  who  have  been  brought  up  amid  wealthy  sur- 
roundings soon  feel  the  emptiness  of  the  life  that  luxury  may 
disguise,  but  cannot  fill ;  it  palls  on  them,  but  their  hearts  are 
not  seared ;  and  when  once  they  have  discovered  for  them- 
selves the  happiness  that  lies  in  a  constant  interchange  of 
sincere  feeling  and  thought,  when  they  are  certain  of  being 
loved,  they  do  not  shrink  from  a  narrow  monotonous  existence, 
if  only  that  existence  is  the  one  best  suited  to  the  being  who 
loves  them.  All  their  own  ideas  and  pleasures  are  subordinated 
to  the  lightest  demands  of  that  life  without  their  own ;  and 
the  future  holds  but  one  dread  for  them — the  dread  of  separa- 
tion. 

At  this  moment  Pepita  felt  that  her  children  stood  between 
her  and  her  real  life,  as  science  had  separated  Balthazar  Claes 
from  her.  When  she  returned  from  vespers  she  flung  herself 
down  in  her  low  chair,  dismissed  the  children  with  a  caution 
to  make  no  noise,  and  sent  to  ask  her  husband  to  come  to 
speak  with  her ;  but  in  spite  of  the  insistence  of  the  old  man- 
servant Lemulquinier,  Balthazar  had  not  stirred  from  his  labo- 
ratory. Mme.  Claes  had  time  to  think  over  her  position,  and 
had  fallen  into  deep  musings,  forgetful  of  the  hour  and  the 
day.  The  thought  that  they  owed  thirty  thousand  francs 
which  they  could  not  pay  roused  painful  memories  ;  all  the 
troubles  of  the  past  started  up  to  meet  the  troubles  of  the 
present  and  the  future.  She  was  overwhelmed  by  the  prob- 
lem, the  burden  grew  too  heavy  for  her,  and  she  gave  way  to 
tears. 

When  Balthazar  came  at  last,  he  looked  more  abstracted, 
more  formidable,  more  distraught  than  she  had  ever  seen  him; 


THE    QUEST  OF   THE  ABSOLUTE.  53 

and  when  he  gave  her  no  answer,  she  sat  for  a  while  like  one 
fascinated  by  the  vacant  unseeing  gaze;  the  remorseless 
thoughts  that  had  wrung  drops  of  sweat  from  his  brow 
seemed  to  exert  a  spell  over  her  also.  With  the  first  shock 
came  the  wish  that  she  might  die.  But  the  scientific  inquiry 
made  in  those  absent  tones  roused  her  courage  just  as  her 
heart  began  to  fail  her ;  she  would  grapple  with  this  hideous 
and  mysterious  power  which  had  robbed  her  of  her  lover,  her 
children  of  their  father,  and  the'  family  of  their  wealth,  had 
overclouded  all  their  happiness,  and  jeopardized  the  fair  name 
of  the  house  of  Claes.  Yet  she  could  not  help  trembling, 
shudder  after  shudder  ran  through  her ;  was  it  not  the  most 
solemn  moment  of  her  life — a  moment  that  held  all  her  future 
— as  it  was  the  outcome  of  all  her  past  ? 

And  at  this  point,  weak-minded  people,  timid  souls,  or  those 
who,  sensitive  by  nature,  are  prone  to  exaggerate  little  trials 
of  life,  men  who,  in  spite  of  themselves,  feel  a  nervous 
tremor  when  they  stand  before  the  arbiters  of  their  fate,  may 
readily  imagine  the  thoughts  that  crowded  up  in  her  mind. 
Her  brain  reeled,  and  her  heart  grew  heavy  with  pent-up 
emotion,  as  she  saw  her  husband  go  slowly  towards  the  gar- 
den door.  Few  women  have  not  known  the  misery  of  such 
inward  debates  as  hers,  so  that  even  those  whose  hearts  have 
not  throbbed  violently  over  a  confession  of  extravagance,  or 
of  debts  to  their  dressmaker,  will  have  some  faint  idea  of  how 
terribly  the  pulse  beats  when  life  is  at  stake.  A  pretty  woman 
can  fling  herself  at  her  husband's  feet,  the  graceful  attitudes  of 
her  sorrow  can  plead  for  her,  but  Mme.  Claes  was  painfully 
conscious  of  her  deformity,  and  this  added  to  her  fears. 
When  she  saw  Balthazar  about  to  leave  her,  her  first  impulse 
had  been  to  spring  to  his  side,  but  a  cruel  thought  restrained 
her.  How  could  she  rise  and  stand  before  him  ?  She  would 
appear  ridiculous  in  the  eyes  of  a  man  who  had  lost  the  old 
illusions  of  love,  and  now  would  see  her  as  she  was.  Rather 
than  lose  one  tittle  of  her  power,  Josephine  would  have  lost 


54  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

fortune  and  children.  She  would  avoid  all  possible  evil  influ- 
ence at  this  crisis. 

"Balthazar!  " 

He  started  at  the  sound  of  her  voice  and  coughed.  Then, 
without  paying  any  attention  to  his  wife,  he  turned  in  the 
direction  of  one  of  the  small  square  spittoons  which  are  placed 
at  intervals  along  the  wainscot  in  all  Dutch  and  Flemish 
houses ;  the  force  of  old  habit  and  association  was  so  strong  in 
him  that  the  man,  who  was  hardly  conscious  of  the  existence 
of  human  beings,  was  always  careful  of  the  furniture.  This 
curious  trait  was  a  source  of  intolerable  pain  to  poor 
Josephine,  who  could  not  understand  it ;  at  this  moment  she 
lost  command  over  herself,  and  her  agony  of  mind  drew  from 
her  a  sharp  cry  of  suffering,  an  exclamation  in  which  all  her 
wounded  feelings  found  expression. 

"  Monsieur  !  I  am  speaking  to  you  !  " 

"What  does  that  signify?"  answered  Balthazar,  turning 
round  abruptly,  and  giving  his  wife  a  quick  glance.  The 
hasty  words  fell  like  a  thunderbolt. 

"  Forgive  me,  dear  —  "  she  said,  with  a  white  face.  She 
tried  to  rise  to  her  feet,  and  held  out  her  hand  to  him,  but 
sank  back  again  exhausted. 

"  This  is  killing  me  !  "  she  said,  in  a  voice  broken  by  sobs. 

The  sight  of  tears  brought  a  revulsion  in  Balthazar,  as  in 
most  absent-minded  people ;  it  was  as  if  a  sudden  light  had 
been  thrown  for  him  on  the  mystery  of  this  crisis.  He  took 
up  Mme.  Claes  at  once  in  his  arms,  opened  a  door  which  led 
into  the  little  ante-chamber,  and  sprang  up  the  staircase  so 
hastily  that  his  wife's  dress  caught  on  one  of  the  carved 
dragon's  heads  of  the  balusters ;  there  was  a  sharp  sound,  and 
a  whole  breadth  was  torn  away.  He  kicked  open  the  door  of 
a  little  room  into  which  their  apartments  opened,  and  found 
that  the  door  of  his  wife's  room  was  locked.  He  set  Josephine 
gently  down  in  an  armchair,  saying  to  himself,  "  Good 
heavens  !  where  is  the  key  ? ' ' 


HE  TOOK  UP  MME.  CLAES  AT  ONCE  IN  HIS  ARMS 
SPRANG  UP  THE   STAIRCASE. 


THE   QUEST  OF   THE  ABSOLUTE.  55 

"Thank  you,  dear,"  said  Mme.  Claes,  as  she  opened  her 
eyes.  "It  is  a  long  while  since  I  have  felt  so  near  to  your 
heart." 

"Great  heavens!"  cried  Claes.  "Where  is  the  key? 
There  are  the  servants " 

Josephine  signed  to  him  to  take  the  key  which  hung  sus- 
pended from  a  riband  at  her  side.  Balthazar  opened  the  door 
and  hastily  laid  his  wife  on  the  sofa ;  then  he  went  out  to  bid 
the  startled  servants  remain  downstairs,  ordered  them  to  serve 
dinner  at  once,  and  hurried  back  to  his  wife. 

"  What  is  it,  dear  heart  ?  "  he  asked,  seating  himself  beside 
her.  He  took  her  hand  and  kissed  it. 

"It  is  nothing,"  she  said;  "  the  pain  is  over  now,  only  I 
wish  that  I  had  God's  power,  and  could  pour  all  the  gold 
in  the  world  at  your  feet." 

"  Why  gold  ?  "  he  asked,  as  he  drew  his  wife  to  him,  held 
her  tightly  in  his  arms,  and  kissed  her  again  on  the  forehead. 
"  Dearest  love,  do  you  not  give  me  the  greatest  of  all  wealth, 
loving  me  as  you  do  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  Balthazar,  why  should  you  not  put  an  end  to  all 
this  wretchedness,  as  your  voice  just  now  dispelled  the  trouble 
in  my  heart?  You  are  not  changed  at  all ;  I  see  that  now," 
she  replied. 

"  Wretchedness  ?    What  do  you  mean,  dearest  ?  " 

"  We  are  ruined,  dear." 

"Ruined?"  he  echoed.  He  began  to  smile,  and  fondly 
stroked  the  hand  which  lay  in  his.  When  he  spoke  again 
there  was  an  unaccustomed  tenderness  in  his  voice. 

"To-morrow,  dearest,  we  may  find  ourselves  possessed  of 
inexhaustible  wealth.  Yesterday,  while  trying  to  discover  far 
greater  secrets,  I  think  I  found  out  how  to  crystallize  carbon, 

the  substance  of  the  diamond. Oh  !  dear  wife,  in  a  few 

day's  time,  you  will  forgive  me  for  my  wandering  wits ;  for 
they  are  apt  to  wander  at  times,  it  seems.  I  spoke  hastily 
just  now,  did  I  not  ?  But  you  will  make  allowances  for  me, 


56  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

the  thought  of  you  is  always  present  with  me,  and  ray  work  is 
all  for  you,  for  us ' 

"  That  is  enough,"  she  said  ;  "  we  will  say  no  more  now, 
dear.  This  evening  we  will  talk  over  it  all.  My  trouble 
seemed  more  than  I  could  bear,  and  now  joy  is  almost  too 
much  for  me." 

She  had  not  thought  to  see  the  old  tender  expression  in  his 
face,  to  hear  such  gentle  tones  again  in  his  voice,  to  recover 
all  that  she  thought  she  had  lost. 

"  Certainly,"  he  said.  "  Let  us  talk  it  over  this  evening. 
If  I  should  grow  absorbed  in  something  else,  remind  me  of 
my  promise.  I  should  like  to  forget  my  calculations  this 
evening,  and  to  surround  myself  with  family  happiness,  with 
the  pleasures  of  the  heart,  for  I  need  them,  Pepita,  I  am  long- 
ing for  them." 

"And  will  you  tell  me  what  you  are  trying  to  discover, 
Balthazar?" 

"Why,  you  would  not  understand  it  all  if  I  did,  poor 
little  one." 

"  That  is  what  you  think  ?  But  for  these  four  months  past 
I  have  been  reading  about  chemistry,  dear,  so  that  I  could 
talk  about  it  with  you.  I  have  read  Fourcroy,  Lavoisier, 
Chaptal,  Nollet,  Rouelle,  Berthollet,  Gay-Lussac,  Spallanzani, 
Leuwenhoek,  Galvani,  Volta- — all  the  books,  in  fact,  about  this 
science  that  you  adore.  Come,  you  can  tell  me  your  secrets 
now." 

"Oh  !  you  are  an  angel!  "  cried  Balthazar,  falling  on  his 
knees  beside  his  wife,  and  shedding  tears  that  made  her 
tremble.  "  We  shall  understand  each  other  in  everything  !  " 

"Ah  !  "  she  said.  "  I  would  fling  myself  into  your  furnace 
fire  to  hear  such  words  from  you,  to  see  you  as  you  are  now." 

She  heard  her  daughter's  footsteps  in  the  next  room,  and 
sprang  hastily  to  the  door. 

"  What  is  it,  Marguerite  ?  "  she  asked  of  her  eldest  girl. 

"M.  Pierquin  is  here,  mother  dear.     You  forgot  to  give 


THE   QUEST  OF    THE  ABSOLUTE.  57 

out  the  table-linen  this  morning,  and  if  he  stays  to  dinner 


Mme.  Claes  drew  a  bunch  of  small  keys  from  her  pocket 
and  gave  them  to  her  daughter,  indicating  as  she  did  so  the 
cupboards  of  foreign  woods  which  lined  the  ante-chamber. 

"Take  it  from  the  Graindorge  linen,"  she  said,  "  on  the 
right-hand  side." 

"  As  this  dear  Balthazar  of  mine  is  to  come  back  to  me 
to-day,  I  should  like  to  have  him  all  complete,"  she  said, 
going  back  to  the  room  with  mischievous  sweetness  in  her 
eyes.  "  Now,  dear,  go  to  your  room,  and  do  me  a  favor — 
dress  for  dinner,  as  Pierquin  is  here.  Just  change  those  ragged 
clothes  of  yours.  Only  look  at  the  stains  !  And  is  it  muri- 
atic or  sulphuric  acid  which  has  burned  those  holes  with  the 
yellow  edges  ?  Go  and  freshen  yourself  up  a  little ;  as  soon 
as  I  have  changed  my  dress,  I  will  send  Mulquinier  to  you." 

Balthazar  tried  to  pass  into  his  room  by  the  door  which 
opened  into  it,  forgetting  that  it  was  locked  on  the  other  side. 
He  was  obliged  to  go  out  through  the  ante-chamber. 

"  Marguerite,"  called  Mme.  Claes,  "  leave  the  linen  on  the 
armchair  there,  and  come  and  help  me  to  dress ;  I  would 
rather  not  have  Martha." 

Balthazar  had  laid  his  hand  on  Marguerite's  shoulder,  and 
turned  her  towards  him,  saying  merrily — 

"  Good  evening,  little  one  !  You  are  very  charming  to-day 
in  that  muslin  frock  and  rose-colored  sash." 

He  grasped  Marguerite's  hand  in  his,  and  kissed  her  fore- 
head. 

"Mamma!"  crid  the  girl,  as  she  went  into  her  mother's 
room,  "  papa  kissed  me  just  now,  and  he  looked  so  pleased 
and  happy !  " 

"  Your  father  is  a  very  great  man,  dear  child  ;  he  has  been 
working  for  three  years  that  his  family  may  be  rich  and  illus- 
trious, and  now  he  feels  sure  that  he  has  reached  the  end  of 
his  ambitions.  To  day  should  be  a  great  day  for  us  all." 


58  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

"  We  shall  not  be  alone  in  our  joy,  mamma  dear;  all  the 

servants  were  sorry,  too,  to  see  him  look  so  gloomy Oh  ! 

not  that  sash,  it  is  so  limp  and  faded." 

"Very  well,  but  we  must  be  quick.  I  must  go  down  and 
speak  to  Pierquin.  Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  In  the  parlor;  he  is  playing  with  Jean." 

"  Where  are  Gabriel  and  Felicie  ?  " 

"  I  hear  their  voices  out  in  the  garden." 

"  Well,  then,  just  run  away  downstairs  and  see  after  them, 
or  they  will  pick  the  tulips ;  your  father  has  not  even  seen 
the  tulips  all  this  year,  perhaps  he  would  like  to  go  out  and 
look  at  them  after  dinner.  And  tell  Mulquinier  to  take 
everything  your  father  wants  up  to  his  room." 

When  Marguerite  had  left  her,  Mme.  Claes  went  to  the 
window  and  looked  out  at  her  children  playing  below  in  the 
garden.  They  were  absorbed  in  watching  one  of  those  gleam- 
ing insects  with  green,  gold-bespangled  wings  that  are  popu- 
larly called  "  diamond  beetles." 

"  Be  good,  my  darlings,"  she  said,  throwing  up  the  window 
sash  to  let  the  fresh  air  into  the  room.  Then  she  tapped 
gently  on  the  door  that  opened  into  her  husband's  apartment, 
to  make  sure  that  he  was  not  lost  once  more  in  a  waking 
dream.  He  opened  it,  and  when  she  saw  that  he  was  dressing, 
she  said  merrily — 

"You  will  not  leave  me  to  entertain  Pierquin  all  by  myself 
for  long,  will  you?  You  will  come  down  as  soon  as  you 
can?"  and  she  tripped  away  downstairs  so  lightly  that  a 
stranger  hearing  her  footsteps  would  not  have  thought  that 
she  was  lame.  Half-way  down  the  staircase  she  met  Mul- 
quinier. 

"  When  monsieur  carried  madame  upstairs,"  said  the  man, 
"her  dress  was  torn  by  one  of  the  balusters;  not  that  the 
scrap  of  stuff  matters  at  all,  but  the  dragon's  head  is  broken, 
and  I  do  not  know  who  is  to  mend  it.  It  quite  spoils  the 
staircase  ;  such  a  handsome  piece  of  carving  as  it  was  too  !" 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  59 

"Pshaw  !  Mulquinier,  do  not  have  it  mended;  it  is  not  a 
misfortune." 

"  Not  a  misfortune?  "  said  Mulquinier  to  himself.  "  How 
is  that  ?  What  has  happened  ?  Can  the  master  have  discov- 
ered the  Absolute  ?  " 

"  Good-day,  M.  Pierquin,"  said  Mme.  Claes,  as  she  opened 
the  parlor  door.  «• 

The  notary  hastened  to  offer  his  arm  to  his  cousin,  but  she 
never  took  any  arm  but  her  husband's,  and  thanked  him  by  a 
smile,  as  she  said,  "  Perhaps  you  have  come  for  the  thirty 
thousand  francs  ?  ' ' 

"Yes,  madame.  When  I  reached  home  I  found  a  memo- 
randum from  MM.  Protez  and  Chiffreville,  who  have  drawn 
six  bills,  each  for  five  thousand  francs,  on  M.  Claes." 

"Very  well,"  she  answered;  "say  nothing  to-day  about 
it  to  Balthazar.  Stay  and  dine  with  us;  and  if  he  should 
happen  to  ask  why  you  have  called,  please  invent  some 
plausible  excuse.  Let  me  have  the  letter;  I  will  tell  him 
about  this  affair  myself.  It  will  be  all  right,"  she  went  on, 
seeing  the  notary's  astonishment ;  "  in  a  very  few  months  my 
husband  will  probably  pay  back  all  the  money  which  he  has 
borrowed." 

The  last  phrase  was  spoken  in  a  low  voice.  The  notary 
meanwhile  watched  Mile.  Claes,  who  was  coming  from  the 
garden,  followed  by  Gabriel  and  Felicie. 

"  I  have  never  seen  Mile.  Marguerite  look  so  charming," 
he  said. 

Mme.  Claes,  sitting  in  her  low  chair,  with  little  Jean  on  her 
knees,  raised  her  face  and  looked  from  her  daughter  to  the 
notary  with  seeming  carelessness. 

Pierquin  was  neither  short  nor  tall,  stout  nor  thin  ;  he  was 
good-looking  in  a  commonplace  way,  with  a  discontented 
rather  than  a  melancholy  expression  ;  it  was  not  a  thoughtful 
face  in  spite  of  its  vague  dreaminess.  He  had  the  name  of  being 


60  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

a  misanthrope,  but  he  had  an  excellent  appetite,  and  was  too 
anxious  to  get  on  in  the  world  to  stand  very  far  aloof  from 
it.  He  had  a  trick  of  gazing  into  space,  an  attitude  of  indif- 
ference, a  carefully-cultivated  talent  for  silence,  which  seemed 
to  indicate  profound  depths  of  character;  but  which,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  served  to  conceal  the  shallowness  and  insig- 
nificance of  a  notary  whose  whole  mind  was  entirely  absorbed 
by  material  interests.  He  was  still  sufficiently  young  to  be 
emulous  and  ambitious ;  the  prospect  of  marrying  into  the 
Claes  family  would  have  been  quite  enough  to  call  forth  all 
his  zeal,  even  if  he  had  had  no  ulterior  motive  in  the  shape  of 
avarice,  but  he  was  not  prepared  to  act  a  generous  part  until 
he  knew  his  position  exactly.  When  Claes  seemed  to  be  in  a 
fair  way  to  ruin  himself,  the  notary  grew  stiff,  curt,  and  un- 
compromising as  an  ordinary  man  of  business ;  but  as  soon 
as  he  suspected  that  something  after  all  might  come  of  his 
cousin's  work,  he  at  once  became  affectionate,  accommodating, 
almost  officious ;  and  yet  he  never  sounded  his  own  motives 
for  these  naive  changes  of  manner.  Sometimes  he  looked  on 
Marguerite  as  an  infanta,  a  princess,  to  whose  hand  a  poor 
notary  dared  not  aspire ;  sometimes  she  was  only  a  penniless 
girl,  who  might  think  herself  lucky  if  Pierquin  condescended 
to  make  her  his  wife.  He  was  a  thorough  provincial  and  a 
Fleming;  there  was  no  harm  in  him;  but  his  transparent 
selfishness  neutralized  his  better  qualities,  as  his  personal 
appearance  was  spoiled  by  his  absurd  affectations. 

As  Mme.  Claes  looked  at  the  notary  she  remembered  the 
curt  way  in  which  he  had  spoken  that  day  in  the  porch  of  St. 
Peter's  Church,  and  noticed  the  change  in  his  manner  wrought 
by  this  evening's  conversation.  She  read  the  thoughts  in  the 
depths  of  his  heart,  and  gave  a  keen  glance  at  her  daughter, 
but  evidently  there  was  no  thought  of  her  cousin  in  the  girl's 
mind.  A  few  minutes  were  spent  in  discussing  town  talk, 
and  then  the  master  of  the  house  came  down  from  his  room. 
His  wife  had  heard  him  moving  about  in  the  room  above  with 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  61 

indescribable  pleasure,  his  step  was  so  quick  and  light  that 
she  pictured  Claes  grown  youthful  again,  and  awaited  his 
coming  with  such  eagerness  that  in  spite  of  herself  a  quiver 
of  excitement  thrilled  her  as  he  came  down  the  staircase. 

A  moment  later  Balthazar  entered,  dressed  in  a  costume  of 
that  day.  His  high  boots,  reaching  almost  to  the  knee,  were 
carefully  polished,  the  tops  were  turned  down,  leaving  white 
silk  stockings  visible.  He  wore  blue  kerseymere  breeches, 
fastened  with  gold  buttons,  a  white-flowered  waistcoat,  and  a 
blue  dress-coat.  He  had  shaved  himself  and  combed  and 
perfumed  his  hair,  his  nails  had  been  pared,  and  his  hands 
washed  with  so  much  care  that  any  one  who  had  seen  him  an 
hour  before  would  hardly  have  recognized  him  again.  Instead 
of  an  old  man  almost  in  his  dotage,  his  wife  and  children 
and  the  notary  beheld  a  man  of  forty,  with  an  irresistible  air 
of  kindliness  and  courtesy.  His  face  was  thin  and  worn,  but 
the  hardness  and  sharpness  of  outline,  which  told  a  tale  of 
weariness  and  strenuous  labor,  gave  a  certain  air  of  refinement 
to  his  face. 

"Good-day,  Pierquin,"  said  Balthazar  Claes. 

The  chemist  had  become  a  father  and  husband  again.  He 
took  up  his  youngest  child  and  tossed  him  up  and  down. 

"Just  look  at  the  youngster,"  he  said  to  the  notary. 
"  Doesn't  a  pretty  child  like  this  make  you  wish  you  were 
married  ?  Take  my  word  for  it,  my  dear  boy,  family  pleasures 
make  up  for  everything 

"Brr!"  he  cried,  as  Jean  went  up  to  the  ceiling.  "Down 
you  come,"  and  he  set  the  child  on  the  floor.  Gleeful 
shrieks  of  laughter  broke  from  the  little  one  as  he  found  him- 
self so  high  in  the  air  one  moment  and  so  low  the  next.  The 
mother  looked  away  lest  any  one  might  see  how  deeply  she 
was  moved  by  this  game  of  play.  It  was  such  a  little  thing, 
yet  it  meant  a  revolution  in  her  life. 

"  Now  let  us  hear  how  you  are  getting  on,"  said  Balthazar, 
depositing  his  son  upon  the  polished  floor,  and  flinging  him- 


62        THE  QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

self  into  an  easy-chair;  but  the  little  one  ran  to  him  at  once  ; 
some  glittering  gold  buttons  peeped  out  above  his  father's 
high  boots  in  a  quite  irresistible  way. 

"You  are  a  darling  !  "  said  his  father,  taking  him  in  his 

arms;  "  a  Claes,  every  inch  of  you  !  You  run  straight. 

Well,  Gabriel,  and  how  is  Pere  Morillon?"  he  said  to  his 
eldest  son,  as  he  pinched  the  boy's  ear.  "  Do  you  manage 
to  hold  your  own  manfully  against  exercises  and  Latin  trans- 
lations? Do  you  keep  a  good  grip  on  your  mathematics  ?  " 

Balthazar  rose  and  went  over  to  Pierquin  with  the  courteous 
friendliness  which  was  natural  to  him.  "Perhaps  you  have 
something  to  ask  me,  my  dear  fellow?  "  he  said,  as  he  took 
the  notary's  arm  and  drew  him  out  into  the  garden,  adding 
as  they  went,  "  Come  and  have  a  look  at  my  tulips." 

Mme.  Claes  looked  after  her  husband,  and  could  scarcely 
control  her  joy.  He  looked  so  young,  so  kindly,  so  much 
himself  again.  She  too  rose  from  her  chair,  put  her  arm 
round  her  daughter's  waist,  and  kissed  her. 

"  Dear  Marguerite,"  she  said ;  "  darling  child,  I  love  you 
more  than  ever  to-day." 

"Papa  has  not  been  so  nice  for  a  long,  long  time." 

Le  Mulquinier  came  to  announce  that  dinner  was  served. 
Mme.  Claes  took  Balthazar's  arm  before  Pierquin  could  offer 
his  a  second  time,  and  the  whole  family  went  into  the  dining- 
room. 

Overhead  the  beams  and  rafters  had  been  left  visible  in  the 
vaulted  ceiling,  but  the  woodwork  was  cleaned  and  carefully 
polished  once  a  year,  and  the  intervening  spaces  were  adorned 
with  paintings.  Tall  oak  sideboards  lined  the  room,  the  more 
curious  specimens  of  the  family  china  were  arranged  on  the 
tiers  of  shelves,  the  purple  leather  which  covered  the  walls 
was  stamped  with  designs  in  gold,  representing  hunting 
scenes.  Here  and  there  above  the  sideboards  a  group  of 
foreign  shells,  or  the  bright-colored  feathers  of  rare  tropical 
birds,  glowed  against  the  sombre  background. 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  63 

The  chairs  were  the  square-shaped  kind  with  twisted  legs 
and  low  backs,  covered  with  fringed  stuff,  which  once  were 
found  in  every  household  all  over  France  and  Italy.  In  one 
of  these  Raphael  seated  his  "  Madonna  of  the  Chair."  They 
had  not  been  changed  since  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  and  the  framework  was  black  with  age,  but  the  gold- 
headed  nails  shone  as  if  they  were  new  only  yesterday,  and 
the  stuff,  carefully  renewed  from  time  to  time,  was  a  rich 
deep  red.  The  Flanders  of  the  sixteenth  century,  with  its 
Spanish  innovations,  seemed  to  have  risen  out  of  the  past. 

The  wine  flasks  and  decanters  on  the  table  preserved  in 
their  bulb-shaped  outlines  the  grace  and  dignity  of  antique 
vases ;  the  glasses  were  the  same  old-fashioned  goblets  with 
long  slender  stems  that  are  seen  in  old  Dutch  pictures.  The 
English  earthenware  was  decorated  with  colored  figures  in 
high  relief,  Wedgwood's  ware  and  Palissy's  designs.  The 
silver  was  massive,  square-sided,  and  richly  ornamented ;  it 
was  in  a  very  literal  sense  family  plate,  for  no  two  pieces  were 
alike,  and  the  rise  and  progress  of  the  fortunes  of  the  house 
of  Claes  might  have  been  traced  from  its  beginnings  in  the 
varying  styles  of  these  heirlooms. 

It  will  readily  be  imagined  that  a  Claes  would  make  it  a 
point  of  honor  to  have  table-linen  of  the  most  magnificent 
kind,  and  the  table-napkins  were  fringed  in  the  Spanish 
fashion.  The  splendors  locked  away  in  the  state  apartments 
only  came  to  light  to  grace  festival  days ;  their  glories  were 
never  dimmed,  so  to  speak,  by  familiarity.  This  was  the 
linen,  plate,  and  earthenware  in  daily  use,  and  everything  in 
the  quarter  of  the  house  where  the  family  lived  bore  the 
stamp  of  a  patriarchal  quaintness.  Add  one  more  charming 
detail  to  complete  the  picture — a  vine  clambering  about  the 
windows  set  them  in  a  framework  of  green  leaves. 

"You  are  faithful  to  old  traditions,  madame,"  said  Pier- 
quin,  as  he  received  a  plateful  of  thymy  soup,  in  which  there 
were  small  rissolettes  made  of  meat  and  fried  bread,  accord- 


C4  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

ing  to  the  approved  Dutch  and  Flemish  recipe,  "  this  is  the 
kind  of  soup  that  always  made  part  of  the  Sunday  dinner  in 
our  father's  time ;  it  has  been  a  standing  dish  in  the  Low 
Countries  for  ages,  but  I  never  meet  with  it  now  except  here 
and  in  my  uncle  Des  Raquet's  house.  Oh  !  stay  a  moment 
though,  old  M.  Savaron  de  Savarus  at  Tournai  still  takes  a 
pride  in  having  it  served,  but  old  Flemish  ways  are  rapidly 
disappearing.  Furniture  must  be  a  la  grecque  nowadays; 
there  are  classical  bucklers,  lances,  helmets,  and  fasces  on  every 
mortal  thing.  Everybody  is  rebuilding  his  house,  selling  his 
old  furniture,  melting  down  his  plate,  or  getting  rid  of  it  for 
Sevres  porcelain,  which  is  nothing  like  as  beautiful  as  old 
Dresden  or  Oriental  china.  Oh  !  I  myself  am  a  Fleming  to 
the  backbone.  It  goes  to  my  heart  to  see  coppersmiths  buy- 
ing up  beautiful  old  furniture  at  the  price  of  firewood  for  the 
sake  of  the  metal  in  the  wrought-incrusted  copperwork,  or  the 
pewter  inlaid  in  it.  Society  has  a  mind  to  change  its  skin,  I 
suppose,  but  the  changes  are  more  than  skin  deep  ;  we  are 
losing  the  faculty  of  producing  along  with  the  old  works  of 
art.  There  is  not  time  to  do  anything  conscientiously  when 
every  one  lives  in  such  a  hurry.  The  last  time  I  was  in  Paris 
I  was  taken  to  see  the  pictures  exhibited  in  the  Louvre,  and, 
upon  my  honor,  they  are  only  fit  for  firescreens  !  Yards  of 
canvas  with  no  atmosphere,  no  depth  of  tone.  Painters 
really  seem  to  be  afraid  of  their  colors.  And  they  intend,  so 
they  say,  to  upset  our  old  school Heaven  help  them  !  " 

"Our  old  masters  used  to  study  their  pigments,"  said 
Balthazar;  "  they  used  to  test  them  singly  and  in  combina- 
tions, submitting  them  to  the  action  of  sunlight  and  rain. 
Yes,  you  are  right ;  nowadays  the  material  resources  of  art 
receive  less  attention  than  formerly." 

Mme.  Claes  was  not  listening  to  the  conversation.  The 
notary's  remark  that  china  had  come  into  fashion  had  set  her 
thoughts  wandering,  and  a  bright  idea  had  at  once  occurred 
to  her.  She  would  sell  the  massive  silver  plate  which  her 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  65 

brother  had  left  her ;  perhaps  in  that  way  she  might  pay  the 
thirty  thousand  francs. 

Presently  her  husband's  voice  sounded  through  her  mus- 
ings. "  Aha  !  "  Balthazar  was  saying,  "  so  they  talk  about  my 
studies  in  Douai !  " 

"Yes,"  answered  Pierquin,  "everybody  is  wondering 
what  it  is  that  you  are  spending  so  much  money  over.  I 
heard  the  First  President,  yesterday,  lamenting  that  a  man  of 
your  ability  should  set  out  to  find  the  philosopher's  stone.  I 
took  it  upon  myself  to  reply  that  you  were  too  learned  not  to 
know  that  it  would  be  attempting  the  impossible,  too  good  a 
Christian  to  imagine  that  you  could  prevail  over  God,  and 
that  a  Claes  was  far  too  shrewd  to  give  hard  cash  for  powder 
of  pimperlimpimp.  Still,  I  must  confess  that  I  share  in  the 
regret  that  is  generally  felt  over  your  withdrawal  from  society. 
You  really  might  be  said  to  be  lost  to  the  town.  Indeed, 
madame,  you  would  have  been  pleased  if  you  knew  how 
highly  every  one  spoke  of  you  and  of  M.  Claes." 

"  It  was  very  kind  of  you  to  put  a  stop  to  such  absurd 
reports,  which  would  make  me  ridiculous  if  no  worse  came  of 
it,"  answered  Balthazar.  "  Oh  !  so  the  good  folk  of  Douai 
think  that  I  am  ruined  !  Very  good,  my  dear  Pierquin,  on 
our  wedding-day,  in  two  months'  time,  I  will  give  a  fe"te  on  a 
splendid  scale,  which  shall  reinstate  me  in  the  esteem  of  our 
dear  money-worshiping  fellow-townsmen." 

The  color  rushed  into  Mme.  Claes'  face ;  for  the  past  two 
years  the  anniversary  had  been  forgotten.  This  evening  was 
an  interval  in  Balthazar's  life  of  enthusiasm  which  might  be 
compared  to  one  of  those  lucid  moments  in  insanity  when  the 
powers  of  the  mind  shine  with  unwonted  brilliancy  for  a  little 
while  ;  never  had  there  been  such  point  and  pith  and  sparkle 
in  his  talk,  his  manner  to  his  children  had  never  been  more 
playfully  tender,  he  was  a  father  once  more,  and  no  festival 
could  have  given  his  wife  such  joy  as  this.  Once  more  his 
eyes  sought  hers  with  a  constant  expression  of  sympathy  in 
5 


66  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

them ;  she  felt  a  delicious  consciousness  that  the  same  feeling 
and  the  same  thought  stirred  in  the  depths  of  either  heart. 

Old  Le  Mulquinier  seemed  to  have  grown  young  again ; 
seldom,  indeed,  had  he  been  known  to  be  in  such  spirits. 
The  change  in  his  master's  manner  had  even  more  significance 
for  him  than  for  his  mistress.  Mme.  Claes  was  dreaming  of 
happiness,  but  visions  of  fortune  filled  the  old  serving  man's 
brain,  and  his  hopes  were  high.  He  had  been  wont  to  help 
with  the  mechanical  part  of  the  work,  and  perhaps  some 
words  let  fall  by  his  master  when  an  experiment  had  failed, 
and  the  end  seemed  farther  and  farther  off,  had  not  been  lost 
on  the  servant.  Perhaps  he  had  become  infected  with  his 
master's  enthusiasm,  or  an  innate  faculty  of  imitation  had  led 
Le  Mulquinier  to  assimilate  the  ideas  of  those  with  whom  he 
lived.  He  regarded  his  master  with  a  half-superstitious  awe  and 
admiration  in  which  there  was  a  trace  of  selfishness.  The 
laboratory  was  for  him  very  much  what  a  lottery-office  is 
for  many  people — hope  organized.  Every  night  as  he  lay 
down  he  used  to  say  to  himself,  "  To-morrow,  who  knows  but 
we  may  be  rolling  in  gold  ?  "  And  in  the  morning  he  awoke 
with  a  no  less  lively  faith. 

He  was  a  thorough  Fleming,  as  his  name  indicated.  In 
past  ages  the  common  people  were  distinguished  merely  by 
nicknames ;  a  man  was  called  after  the  place  he  came  from, 
after  his  trade,  or  after  some  moral  quality  or  personal  trait. 
But  when  one  of  the  people  was  enfranchised,  his  nickname 
became  his  family  name,  and  was  transmitted  to  his  burgher 
descendants.  In  Flanders,  dealers  in  flax  thread  were  called 
mulquiniers ;  and  the  old  valet's  ancestor,  who  passed  from 
serfdom  into  the  burgher  class,  had,  doubtless,  dealt  in  linen 
thread.  That  had  been  some  generations  ago,  and  now  the 
grandson  of  the  dealer  in  flax  was  reduced  to  the  old  condi- 
tion of  servitude,  albeit,  unlike  his  grandsire,  he  received 
wages.  The  history  of  Flanders,  its  flax  trade,  its  industries, 
and  its  commerce,  was  in  a  manner  epitomized  in  the  old 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  67 

servant,  who  was  often  called  Mulquinier  for  the  sake  of 
euphony. 

There  was  something  quaint  in  his  appearance  and  charac- 
ter. In  person  he  was  tall  and  thin;  his  broad,  triangular 
countenance  had  been  so  badly  scarred  by  the  smallpox  that 
the  white  shiny  seams  gave  it  a  grotesque  appearance ;  the 
little  tawny  eyes,  which  exactly  matched  the  color  of  his 
sleek,  sandy  perruque,  seemed  to  look  askance  at  everything. 
He  talked  solemnly  and  mysteriously  about  the  house ;  his 
whole  bearing  and  manner  excused  the  curiosity  which  he 
awakened.  It  was  believed,  moreover,  that  as  an  assistant  in 
the  laboratory  he  shared  and  kept  his  master's  secrets,  and  he 
was  in  consequence  invested  with  a  sort  of  halo  of  romance. 
Dwellers  in  the  Rue  de  Paris  watched  him  as  he  came  and 
went,  with  an  interest  not  unmixed  with  awe ;  for  when  ques- 
tioned he  was  wont  to  deliver  himself  of  Delphic  utterances, 
and  to  throw  out  vague  hints  of  fabulous  wealth.  He  was 
proud  of  being  necessary  to  his  master,  and  exercised,  on  the 
strength  of  it,  a  petty  tyranny  over  his  fellow-servants,  taking 
advantage  of  his  position  to  make  himself  master  below  stairs. 
Unlike  Flemish  servants,  who  become  greatly  attached  to  the 
family  they  serve,  he  cared  for  no  one  in  the  house  but  Bal- 
thazar ;  Mme.  Claes  might  be  in  trouble,  some  piece  of  good 
fortune  might  befall  the  household,  but  it  was  all  one  to 
Le  Mulquinier,  who  ate  his  bread  and  butter  and  drank  his 
beer  with  an  unmoved  countenance. 

After  dinner,  Mrae.  Claes  suggested  that  they  should  take 
coffee  in  the  garden  beside  the  centre  bed  of  tulips.  The 
flowers  had  been  carefully  labeled  and  planted  in  pots,  which 
were  embedded  in  the  earth  and  arranged  pyramid  fashion, 
with  a  unique  specimen  of  parrot-tulip  at  the  highest  point. 
No  other  collector  possessed  a  bulb  of  the  Tulipa  Claesiana. 
Balthazar's  father  had  many  times  refused  ten  thousand  florins 
for  this  marvel,  which  had  all  the  seven  colors  ;  the  edges  of 
its  slender  petals  gleamed  like  gold  in  the  sun.  The  older 


68  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

Claes  had  taken  extraordinary  precautions,  keeping  it  in  the 
parlor,  lest  by  any  means  a  single  seed  should  be  stolen  from 
him,  and  had  often  passed  entire  days  in  admiring  it.  The 
stem  was  strong,  elastic,  erect,  and  a  beautiful  green  color; 
the  flower  cup  possessed  the  perfect  form  and  pure  brilliancy 
of  coloring  which  were  once  so  much  sought  after  in  these 
gorgeous  flowers. 

"Thirty  or  forty  thousand  francs'  worth  there  !  "  was  the 
notary's  comment,  as  his  eyes  wandered  from  the  mass  of 
color  to  Mme.  Claes's  face ;  but  she  was  too  much  delighted 
by  the  sight  of  the  flowers,  which  glowed  like  precious  stones 
in  the  rays  of  the  sunset,  to  catch  the  drift  of  this  business- 
like remark. 

"What  is  the  good  of  it  all?  you  ought  to  sell  them," 
Pierquin  went  on,  turning  to  Balthazar. 

''  Pshaw  !  what  is  the  money  to  me  !  "  answered  Claes,  with 
the  gesture  of  a  man  to  whom  forty  thousand  francs  is  a  mere 
trifle. 

There  was  a  brief  pause,  filled  by  the  children's  exclama- 
tions. 

"  Do  look  at  this  one,  mamma  !  " 

"Oh,  what  a  beauty  !  " 

"  What  is  this  one  called,  mamma?  " 

"What  an  abyss  for  the  human  mind!"  exclaimed  Bal- 
thazar, clasping  his  hands  with  a  despairing  gesture.  "One 
combination  of  hydrogen  and  oxygen,  in  different  propor- 
tions, but  under  the  same  conditions,  and  all  those  different 
colors  are  produced  from  the  same  materials !  " 

The  terms  which  he  used  were  quite  familiar  to  his  wife,  but 
he  spoke  so  rapidly  that  she  did  not  grasp  his  meaning ;  Bal- 
thazar bethought  him  that  she  had  studied  his  favorite  science, 
and  said,  making  a  mysterious  sign,  "  You  should  understand 
that,  but  you  would  not  yet  understand  all  that  I  meant,"  and 
lie  seemed  to  relapse  into  one  of  his  usual  musing  fits. 

"  I  should  think  so,"  said  Pierquin,  taking  the  cup  of  coffee 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  69 

which  Marguerite  handed  him.  "  Drive  nature  out  by  the 
door  and  she  comes  in  at  the  window,"  he  went  on,  speaking 
to  Mme.  Claes  in  a  low  voice.  "  You  will  perhaps  be  so  good 
as  to  speak  to  him  yourself;  the  devil  himself  would  not  rouse 
him  now  from  his  cogitations.  He  will  keep  on  like  this  till 
to-morrow  morning,  I  suppose." 

He  said  good-bye  to  Claes,  who  appeared  not  to  hear  a 
syllable,  kissed  little  Jean  in  his  mother's  arms,  made  a  pro- 
found bow  to  Mme.  Claes,  and  went.  As  soon  as  the  great 
door  was  shut  upon  the  visitor,  Balthazar  threw  his  arm  round 
his  wife's  waist,  and  dispelled  all  her  uneasiness  over  his 
feigned  reverie  by  whispering  in  her  ear,  "  I  knew  exactly  how 
to  get  rid  of  him  !  " 

Mme.  Claes  raised  her  face  to  her  husband  without  attempt- 
ing to  hide  the  happy  tears  which  filled  her  eyes.  Then  she 
let  little  Jean  slip  to  the  ground,  and  laid  her  head  on  Bal- 
thazar's shoulder. 

"Let  us  go  back  to  the  parlor,"  she  said  after  a  pause. 

Balthazar  was  in  the  wildest  spirits  that  evening ;  he  in- 
vented innumerable  games  for  the  children,  and  joined  in 
them  himself  so  heartily  that  he  did  not  notice  that  his  wife 
left  the  room  two  or  three  times.  At  half-past  nine  o'clock, 
when  Jean  had  been  put  to  bed,  and  Marguerite  had  helped 
her  sister  Felicie  to  undress,  she  came  down  stairs  into  the 
parlor,  and  found  her  mother  sitting  in  the  low  chair  talking 
with  her  father,  and  saw  that  her  hand  lay  in  his.  She  turned 
to  go  without  speaking,  fearing  to  disturb  her  father  and 
mother,  but  Mme.  Claes  saw  her. 

"Here,  come  here,  Marguerite,  dear  child,"  she  said, 
drawing  the  girl  towards  her,  and  kissing  her  affectionately, 
"  Take  your  book  with  you  to  your  room,"  she  added,  "  and 
mind  you  go  early  to  bed." 

"Good-night,  darling  child,"  said  Balthazar. 

Marguerite  gave  her  father  a  good-night  kiss  and  vanished. 
Claes  and  his  wife  were  alone  for  a  while.  They  watched  the 


70  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

last  twilight  tints  fade  away  in  the  garden,  the  leaves  turned 
black,  the  outlines  grew  dim  and  shadowy  in  the  summer 
dusk.     When  it  was  almost  dark,  Balthazar  spoke  in  an  un 
steady  voice.     "  Let  us  go  upstairs,"  he  said. 

Long  before  the  introduction  of  the  English  custom  of  re- 
garding a  wife's  apartment  as  a  sort  of  inner  sanctuary,  a 
Flamande's  room  had  been  impenetrable.  This  is  due  to  no 
ostentation  of  virtue  on  the  part  of  the  good  housewives ;  it 
springs  from  a  habit  of  mind  acquired  in  early  childhood,  a 
household  superstition  which  looks  on  a  bedroom  as  a  deli- 
cious sanctuary,  where  there  should  be  an  atmosphere  of 
gentle  thoughts  and  feelings,  where  simplicity  is  combined 
with  all  the  sweetest  and  most  sacred  associations  of  social 
life. 

Any  woman  in  Mme.  Claes'  position  would  have  done  her 
best  to  surround  herself  with  dainty  belongings ;  but  Mme. 
Claes  had  brought  a  refined  taste  to  the  task,  and  a  knowledge 
of  the  subtle  influence  which  externals  exert  upon  our  moods. 
What  would  have  been  luxury  for  a  pretty  woman  was  for  her 
a  necessity.  "It  is  in  one's  own  power  to  be  a  pretty  woman," 
so  another  Josephine  had  said  ;  but  there  had  been  something 
artificial  in  the  grace  of  the  wife  of  the  First  Consul,  who 
had  never  lost  sight  of  her  maxim  for  a  moment ;  Mme.  Claes 
had  understood  its  import,  and  was  always  simple  and 
natural. 

Familiar  as  the  sight  of  his  wife's  room  was  to  Balthazar, 
he  was  usually  so  unmindful  of  the  things  about  him  that  a 
thrill  of  pleasure  went  through  him,  as  if  he  saw  it  now  for 
the  first  time.  The  vivid  colors  of  the  tulips,  carefully  ar- 
ranged in  the  tall,  slender  porcelain  jars,  seemed  to  be  part 
of  the  pageant  of  a  woman's  triumph,  the  blaze  of  the  lights 
proclaimed  it  as  joyously  as  a  flourish  of  trumpets.  The 
candlelight  falling  on  the  gridelin  silken  stuffs  brought  their 
pale  tints  into  harmony  with  the  brilliant  surroundings,  break- 
ing the  surface  with  dim  golden  gleams  wherever  it  caught  the 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  71 

light,  shining  on  the  petals  of  the  flowers  till  they  glowed 
like  heaped-up  gems.  And  these  preparations  had  been  made 
for  him  !  It  was  all  for  him  ! 

Josephine  could  have  found  no  more  eloquent  way  of  telling 
him  that  he  was  the  source  of  all  her  joys  and  sorrows.  There 
was  something  deliciously  soothing  to  the  soul  in  this  room, 
something  that  banished  every  thought  of  sadness,  till  nothing 
but  the  consciousness  of  perfect  and  serene  happiness  was  left. 
The  soft  clinging  perfume  of  the  Oriental  hangings  filled  the  air 
without  palling  on  the  senses ;  the  very  curtains,  so  carefully 
drawn,  revealed  a  jealous  anxiety  to  treasure  the  lowest  word 
uttered  there,  to  shut  out  everything  beyond  from  the  eyes 
of  him  whom  she  had  won  back. 

Mme.  Claes  drew  the  tapestry  hangings  across  the  door  that 
no  sound  might  reach  them  from  without.  Then,  as  she  stood 
for  a  moment  wrapped  in  a  loose  dressing-gown  with  deep 
frills  of  lace  at  the  throat,  her  beautiful  hair,  black  and  glossy 
as  a  raven's  wing,  making  a  setting  for  her  face,  Josephine 
glanced  with  a  bright  smile  at  her  husband,  who  was  sitting 
by  the  hearth.  A  witty  woman,  who  at  times  grows  beautiful 
when  her  soul  passes  into  her  face,  can  express  irresistible 
hopes  in  her  smile. 

A  woman's  greatest  charm  consists  in  a  constant  appeal  to 
a  man's  generosity,  in  a  graceful  admission  of  helplessness, 
which  stimulates  his  pride  and  awakens  his  noblest  feelings. 
Is  there  not  a  magical  power  in  such  a  confession  of  weakness? 
When  the  rings  had  slid  noiselessly  over  the  curtain-rod,  she 
went  towards  her  husband,  laying  her  hand  on  a  chair  as 
though  to  find  support,  or  to  move  more  gracefully  and  dis- 
semble her  lameness.  It  was  a  mute  request  for  help.  Bal- 
thazar seemed  lost  in  thought ;  his  eyes  rested  on  the  pale 
olive  face  against  its  dusky  background  with  a  sense  of  perfect 
satisfaction  ;  now  he  shook  off  his  musings,  sprang  up,  took 
his  wife  in  his  arms,  and  carried  her  to  the  sofa.  This  was 
exactly  what  she  had  intended. 


72  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

"  You  promised,"  she  said,  taking  his  hands,  which  thrilled 
at  her  touch,  "  to  let  me  into  the  secret  of  your  researches. 
You  must  admit,  dear,  that  I  am  worthy  of  the  confidence, 
for  I  have  been  brave  enough  to  study  a  science  which  the 
church  condemns,  so  that  I  may  understand  all  that  you  say. 
But  you  must  not  hide  anything  from  me ;  I  am  curious. 
And,  first  of  all,  tell  me  how  it  chanced  that  one  morning 
you  looked  so  troubled  when  I  had  left  you  so  happy  the 
evening  before?" 

"  You  are  dressed  too  coquettishly  to  talk  about  chemistry." 

"  No,  dear,  to  learn  a  secret  which  will  let  me  a  little 
further  into  your  heart ;  is  not  that  the  greatest  of  all  joys  for 
me  ?  All  the  sweetness  of  life  is  comprised,  and  has  its  source, 
in  a  closer  understanding  between  two  souls.  And  now,  when 
your  love  is  wholly  and  solely  mine,  I  want  to  know  this 
tyrannous  idea  which  drew  you  away  from  me  for  so  long. 
Yes,  I  am  more  jealous  of  a  thought  than  all  the  women 
in  the  world.  Love  is  vast,  but  love  is  not  infinite  ;  and  in 
science  there  are  unfathomable  depths ;  I  cannot  let  you  go 
forth  into  them  alone.  I  hate  everything  that  can  come 
between  us;  some  day  the  fame  that  you  are  seeking  so 
eagerly  will  be  yours,  and  I  shall  be  miserable.  Fame  would 
give  you  intense  pleasure,  would  it  not  ?  and  I  alone  should 
be  the  source  of  your  pleasures,  monsieur." 

"  No,  dear  angel,  it  was  not  a  thought  that  set  me  on  this 
glorious  quest ;  it  was  a  man." 
'  A  man  !  "  she  cried  aghast. 

"  Do  you  remember  the  Polish  officer,  Pepita,  who  spent  a 
night  here  in  our  house  in  1809  ?  " 

"  Do  I  remember  him?  I  am  vexed  with  myself  because  I 
see  his  face  so  often — his  bald  head,  the  curling  ends  of  his 
mustache,  his  sharp  worn  features,  and  those  eyes  of  his, 
like  flickering  fires  lit  in  hell,  shining  out  of  the  coal-black 
hollows  under  his  brows  !  There  was  something  appalling  in 
his  listless  mechanical  way  of  walking  !  If  all  the  inns  had 


THE    QUEST  OF   THE  ABSOLUTE.  73 

not  been  full,  he  certainly  should  never  have  spent  the  night 
here!" 

"  Well,  that  Polish  gentleman  was  a  M.  Adam  de  Wierz- 
chownia,"  answered  Balthazar.  "That  evening,  when  you 
left  us  sitting  in  the  parlor  by  ourselves,  we  fell  somehow  to 
talking  about  chemistry.  He  had  been  forced  to  relinquish 
his  studies  from  poverty,  and  had  become  a  soldier.  If  I 
remember  rightly,  it  was  over  a  glass  of  cau  sucree  that  we 
recognized  each  other  as  adepts.  When  I  told  Mulquinier  to 
bring  the  sugar  in  lumps  and  not  in  powder,  the  captain  gave 
a  start  of  surprise. 

"  '  Have  you  ever  studied  chemistry?"  he  asked. 

"  'Yes,  with  Lavoisier,'  I  told  him. 

"  'You  are  very  lucky,'  he  exclaimed;  'you  are  rich,  you 
are  your  own  master ' 

"  He  gave  one  of  those  groans  that  reveal  a  hell  of  misery 
hidden  and  locked  away  in  a  man's  heart  or  brain,  a  sigh  of 
suppressed  and  helpless  rage  of  which  words  cannot  give  any 
idea,  and  completed  his  sentence  with  a  glance  that  made  me 
shudder.  After  a  pause  he  told  me  that,  since  what  might  be 
called  the  death  of  Poland,  he  had  taken  refuge  in  Sweden, 
and  there  had  sought  consolation  in  the  study  of  chemistry, 
which  had  always  had  an  irresistible  attraction  for  him. 

"  '  Well,'  he  added,  '  I  see  that  you  have  recognized,  as  I 
have,  that  if  gum  arabic,  sugar,  and  starch  are  reduced  to  a 
fine  powder,  they  are  almost  indistinguishable,  and,  if  analyzed, 
yield  the  same  ultimate  result.' 

"There  was  a  second  pause.  He  eyed  me  keenly  for  a 
while,  then  he  spoke  confidentially  and  in  a  low  voice.  To- 
day only  the  recollection  of  the  general  sense  of  those  solemn 
words  remains  with  me ;  but  there  was  something  so  earnest 
in  his  tones,  such  fierce  energy  in  his  gestures,  that  every 
word  seemed  to  vibrate  through  me,  to  be  beaten  into  my 
brain  with  hammer-strokes.  These,  in  brief,  were  his  reason- 
ings ;  for  me  they  were  like  the  coal  which  the  seraphim  laid 


74  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

on  the  lips  of  the  Prophet  Isaiah,  for  after  my  studies  with 
Lavoisier  I  could  understand  all  that  they  meant. 

"  '  The  ultimate  identity  of  these  three  substances,  to  all 
appearances  so  different,'  he  went  on,  '  suggested  the  idea 
that  all  natural  productions  might  be  reduced  to  a  single  ele- 
ment. The  investigations  of  modern  chemistry  have  proved 
that  this  law  holds  good  to  a  large  extent.  Chemistry  classi- 
fies all  creation  under  two  distinct  headings — organic  nature 
and  inorganic  nature.  Organic  nature  comprises  every  animal 
or  vegetable  growth,  every  organic  structure  however  ele- 
mentary, or,  to  speak  more  accurately,  everything  which 
possesses  more  or  less  capacity  of  motion,  which  is  the  measure 
of  its  sentient  powers.  Organic  nature  is  therefore  the  most 
important  part  of  our  world.  Now,  analysis  has  reduced  all 
the  products  of  organic  nature  to  four  elements,  three  of 
which  are  gases — nitrogen,  oxygen,  and  hydrogen  ;  and  the 
fourth,  carbon,  is  a  non-metallic  solid. 

"'Inorganic  nature,  on  the  other  hand — with  so  little 
diversity  among  its  forms,  with  no  power  of  movement  or  of 
sentience,  destitute,  perhaps,  of  the  power  of  growth,  con- 
ceded to  it  on  insufficient  grounds  by  Linnaeus — inorganic 
nature  numbers  fifty-three  simple  bodies,  and  all  its  products 
are  formed  by  their  various  combinations.  Is  it  likely  that 
the  constituents  should  be  most  numerous  when  the  results  are 
so  slightly  various?  My  old  master  used  to  hold  that  there 
was  a  single  element  common  to  all  these  fifty-three  bodies, 
and  that  some  unknown  force,  no  longer  exerted,  brought 
about  the  apparent  modifications ;  this  unknown  force,  in  his 
opinion,  the  human  intellect  might  discover  and  apply  once 
more.  Well,  then,  imagine  that  force  discovered  and  once 
more  set  in  motion,  chemistry  would  be  the  science  of  a  single 
element. 

"  '  Organic  and  inorganic  nature  are  probably  alike  based 
upon  four  elements;  but  if  we  should  succeed  in  decomposing 
nitrogen,  for  instance,  which  we  may  look  upon  as  a  negation, 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  75 

their  number  would  be  reduced  to  three.  We  are  on  the  very 
verge  of  the  Grand  Ternary  of  the  ancients — we,  who  are 
wont  to  scoff,  in  our  ignorance,  at  the  alchemists  of  the 
middle  ages  !  Modern  chemistry  has  gone  no  further  than 
this.  It  is  much,  and  yet  it  is  very  little.  Much  has  been 
accomplished,  for  chemistry  has  learned  to  shrink  before  no 
difficulties ;  little,  because  what  has  been  accomplished  is  as 
nothing  compared  with  what  remains  to  do.  'Tis  a  fair 
science,  yet  she  owes  much  to  chance. 

"'  There  is  the  diamond,  for  instance,  that  crystallized 
drop  of  pure  carbon,  the  very  last  substance,  one  would 
think,  that  man  could  create.  The  alchemists  themselves, 
the  chemists  of  the  middle  ages,  who  thought  that  gold  could 
be  resolved  into  its  different  elements,  and  made  up  again 
from  them,  would  have  shrunk  in  dismay  from  the  attempt  to 
make  the  diamond.  Yet  we  have  discovered  its  nature  and 
the  law  of  its  crystallization. 

"  '  As  for  me,'  he  added,  '  I  have  gone  farther  yet !  I 
have  learned  from  an  experiment  I  once  made,  that  the  mys- 
terious Ternary,  which  has  filled  men's  imaginations  from  time 
immemorial,  will  never  be  discovered  by  any  analytical  pro- 
cess, for  analysis  tends  in  no  one  special  direction.  But, 
in  the  first  place,  I  will  describe  the  experiment.  You 
take  seeds  of  cress  (selecting  a  single  one  from  among  the 
many  substances  of  organic  nature),  and  sow  them  in  flowers 
of  sulphur,  which  is  a  simple  inorganic  body.  Water  the 
seeds  with  distilled  water,  to  make  certain  that  no  unknown 
element  mingles  with  the  products  of  germination.  Under 
these  conditions  the  seeds  will  sprout  and  grow,  drawing  all 
their  nourishment  from  elements  ascertained  by  analysis. 
From  time  to  time  cut  the  cress  and  burn  it,  until  you  have 
collected  a  sufficient  quantity  of  ash  for  your  analysis ;  and 
what  does  it  yield  ?  Silica,  alumina,  calcic  phosphate  and 
carbonate,  magnesic  carbonate,  potassic  sulphate  and  car- 
bonate, and  ferric  oxide ;  just  as  if  the  cress  had  sprung  up  in 


76  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

the  earth  by  the  waterside.  Yet  none  of  these  substances  are 
present  in  the  soil  in  which  the  cresses  grew;  sulphur  is  a 
simple  body,  the  composition  of  distilled  water  is  definitely 
known ;  none  of  them  exist  in  the  seeds  themselves.  We  can 
only  suppose  that  there  is  one  element  common  to  the  cress 
and  its  environment ;  that  the  air,  the  distilled  water,  the 
flowers  of  sulphur,  and  the  various  substances  detected  by  an 
analysis  of  the  calcined  cress  (that  is  to  say,  the  potassium, 
lime,  magnesia,  alumina,  and  so  forth)  are  all  various  forms 
of  one  common  element,  which  is  free  in  the  atmosphere,  and 
that  the  sun  has  been  the  active  agent. 

"  'There  can  be  no  cavil  at  this  experiment,'  he  exclaimed, 
'  and  thence  I  deduce  the  existence  of  the  Absolute !  One 
element  common  to  all  substances,  modified  by  a  unique  force 
— that  is  stating  the  problem  of  the  Absolute  in  its  simplest 
form,  a  problem  which  the  human  intellect  can  solve,  or  so  it 
seems  to  me. 

"'You  are  confronted  at  the  outset  by  the  mysterious 
Ternary,  before  which  humanity  has  knelt  in  every  age — 
primitive  matter,  the  agency,  and  the  result.  Throughout 
all  human  experience  you  find  the  awful  number  "three," 
in  all  religions,  sciences,  and  laws.  And  there,'  he  said,  '  war 
and  poverty  put  an  end  to  my  researches  ! 

"  '  You  are  a  pupil  of  Lavoisier's ;  you  are  rich,  and  can 
spend  your  life  as  you  will ;  I  will  share  my  guesses  at  truth 
with  you,  the  results  of  the  experiments  which  gave  me  glimpses 
of  the  end  to  which  research  should  be  directed.  The  primi- 
tive element  must  be  an  element  common  to  oxygen,  hydrogen, 
nitrogen,  and  carbon  ;  the  agency  must  be  the  common  prin- 
ciple of  positive  and  negative  electricity.  If  after  inventing 
and  applying  test  upon  test  you  can  establish  these  two  theories 
beyond  a  doubt,  you  will  be  in  possession  of  the  "  first  cause," 
the  key  to  all  the  phenomena  of  nature. 

"  '  Oh  !  monsieur,  when  you  carry  there,1  he  said,  striking 
his  forehead,  '  the  last  word  of  creation,  a  foreshadowing  of 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  77 

the  Absolute,  can  you  call  it  living  to  be  dragged  hither  and 
thither  over  the  earth,  to  be  one  among  blind  masses  of  men 
who  hurl  themselves  upon  each  other  at  a  given  signal  without 
knowing  why?  My  waking  life  is  an  inverted  dream.  My 
body  comes  and  goes,  does  this  and  that,  amid  men  and 
cannon,  goes  under  fire,  and  marches  across  Europe  at  the 
bidding  of  a  power  which  I  despise ;  and  I  have  no  conscious- 
ness of  it  all.  My  inmost  soul  is  rapt  in  the  contemplation 
of  one  fixed  idea,  engrossed  by  one  all-absorbing  thought — 
the  Quest  of  the  Absolute ;  to  detect  the  force  that  is  seen  at 
work  when  a  few  seeds,  which  cannot  be  told  one  from  another, 
set  under  the  same  conditions,  will  spring  up  and  blossom, 
and  some  flowers  will  be  white  and  some  will  be  yellow.  You 
can  see  its  mysterious  operation  in  insects,  by  feeding  silk- 
worms, apparently  alike  in  structure,  on  the  same  leaves,  and 
some  will  spin  a  white,  others  a  yellow  cocoon ;  you  can 
see  it  in  man  himself  when  his  own  children  bear  no  resem- 
blance to  their  father  or  mother.  Hence,  may  we  not  logi- 
cally infer  that  there  is  one  cause  underlying  these  effects, 
beneath  all  the  phenomena  of  nature  ?  Is  it  not  in  con- 
formity with  all  our  thoughts  of  God  to  imagine  that  He  has 
brought  everything  to  pass  by  the  simplest  means  and  in  the 
simplest  manner? 

"  '  The  followers  of  Pythagoras  of  old  adored  the  one 
whence  issued  the  many  (their  expression  for  the  primitive 
element);  men  have  reverenced  the  number  "  two,"  the  first 
aggregation  and  type  of  all  that  follow ;  and  in  every  age  and 
creed  the  number  "three"  has  represented  God  (that  is  to 
say,  matter,  force,  and  result;  through  all  these  confused 
gropings  of  the  human  mind  there  is  a  dim  perception  of  the 
Absolute !  Stahl  and  Becher,  Paracelsus  and  Agrippa,  all 
great  seekers  of  occult  causes,  had  for  password  Trismegistus — 
that  is  to  say,  the  Grand  Ternary.  Ignorant  people,  who 
echo  and  re-echo  the  old  condemnations  of  alchemy,  that 
transcendental  chemistry,  have  doubtless  no  suspicion  that 


78  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

our  discoveries  justify  the  impassioned   researches  of  ,those 
forgotten  great  men  ! 

"'Even  when  the  secret  of  the  Absolute  is  found,  the 
problem  of  movement  remains  to  be  grappled  with.  Ah  me  ! 
while  shot  and  shell  are  my  daily  fare,  while  I  am  command- 
ing men  to  fling  away  their  lives  for  nothing,  my  old  master 
is  making  discovery  on  discovery,  soaring  higher  and  faster 
towards  the  Absolute.  And  I  ?  I  shall  die,  like  a  dog,  in 
the  corner  of  a  battery  ! ' 

"As  soon  as  the  poor  great  man  had  grown  somewhat 
calmer,  he  said  in  a  brotherly  fashion  that  touched  me — 

"  '  If  I  should  think  of  any  experiment  worth  making,  I 
will  leave  it  to  you  before  I  die.' 

"My  Pepita,"  said  Balthazar,  pressing  his  wife's  hand, 
"  tears  of  rage  and  despair  coursed  down  his  hollow  cheeks  as 
he  spoke,  and  his  words  kindled  a  fire  in  me.  Somewhat  in 
this  way  Lavoisier  had  reasoned  before,  but  Lavoisier  had  not 
the  courage  of  his  opinions " 

"  Indeed  !  "  cried  Mme.  Claes,  interrupting,  in  spite  of 
herself,  "  then  it  was  this  man  who  only  spent  one  night  under 
our  roof  that  robbed  us  all  of  your  affection ;  one  phrase,  one 
single  word  of  his  has  ruined  our  children's  happiness  and 
our  own  ?  Oh  !  dear  Balthazar,  did  he  make  the  sign  of  the 
cross?  Did  you  look  at  him  closely?  Only  the  Tempter 
could  have  those  yellow  eyes,  blazing  with  the  fire  of  Prome- 
theus. Yes.  Only  the  devil  himself  could  have  snatched 
you  away  from  me ;  ever  since  that  day  you  have  been  neither 
father  nor  husband  nor  head  of  the  household " 

"What !  "  exclaimed  Balthazar,  springing  to  his  feet,  and 
looking  searchingly  at  his  wife,  "  do  you  blame  your  husband 
for  rising  above  other  men,  that  he  may  spread  the  divine 
purple  of  glory  beneath  your  feet  ?  a  poor  tribute  compared 
with  the  treasures  of  your  heart.  Why,  do  you  know  what  I 
have  achieved  in  these  three  years?  I  have  made  giant 
strides,  my  Pepita !  "  he  cried,  in  his  enthusiasm. 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  79 

It  seemed  to  his  wife  at  that  moment  that  the  glow  of 
inspiration  lighted  up  his  face  as  love  had  never  done,  and 
her  tears  flowed  as  she  listened. 

"  I  have  combined  chlorine  and  nitrogen  ;  I  have  decom- 
posed several  substances  hitherto  believed  to  be  elements ;  I 
have  discovered  new  metals.  Nay,"  he  said,  as  he  looked  at 
his  weeping  wife,  "  I  have  decomposed  tears.  Tears  are  com- 
posed of  a  little  phosphate  of  lime,  chloride  of  sodium, 
mucus  and  water." 

He  went  on  speaking  without  seeing  that  Josephine's  face 
was  drawn  and  distorted  with  pain  ;  he  had  mounted  the 
winged  steed  of  science,  and  was  far  from  the  actual  world. 

"That  analysis,  dear,  is  one  of  the  strongest  proofs  of  the 
theory  of  the  Absolute.  All  life,  of  course,  implies  combustion ; 
the  duration  of  life  varies  as  the  fire  burns  rapidly  or  slowly. 
The  existence  of  the  mineral  is  prolonged  indefinitely,  for  in 
minerals  combustion  is  potential,  latent,  or  imperceptible. 
In  the  case  of  many  plants  this  waste  is  so  constantly  repaired 
through  the  agency  of  moisture,  that  their  life  seems  to  be 
practically  endless ;  there  are  living  vegetable  growths  which 
have  been  in  existence  since  the  last  cataclysm.  But  when, 
for  some  unknown  end,  nature  makes  a  more  delicate  and  per- 
fect piece  of  mechanism,  endowing  it  with  sentience,  instinct, 
or  intelligence  (which  mark  three  successive  stages  of  organic 
development),  the  combustion  of  vitality  in  such  organisms 
varies  directly  with  the  amount  performed. 

"Man,  representing  the  highest  point  of  intelligence,  is  a 
piece  of  mechanism  which  possesses  the  faculty  of  thought, 
one-half  of  creative  power.  And  combustion  is  accordingly 
more  intense  in  man  than  in  any  other  animal  organism ;  its 
effects  may  be  in  a  measure  traced  by  the  presence  of  phosphates, 
sulphates,  and  carbonates  in  the  system,  which  are  revealed  by 
analysis.  What  are  these  substances  but  traces  of  the  action 
of  electric  fluid,  the  life-giving  principle  ?  Should  we  not  look 
to  find  the  compounds  produced  by  electricity  in  greater  va- 


80  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

riety  in  man  than  in  any  other  animal  ?  Was  it  not  to  be 
expected  that  man  would  possess  greater  facilities  for  absorb- 
ing large  quantities  of  the  absolute  element,  greater  powers 
for  assimilating  it,  an  organization  more  perfectly  adapted  for 
converting  it  to  his  own  uses,  for  drawing  from  it  his  physical 
force  and  his  mental  power?  I  am  sure  of  it.  Man  is  a 
matrass.  In  my  opinion  the  idiot's  brain  contains  less  phos- 
phorus, less  of  all  the  products  of  electro-magnetism,  which 
are  redundant  in  the  madman ;  they  are  present  in  small 
quantities  in  the  ordinary  brain,  and  are  found  in  their  right 
proportion  in  the  brain  of  the  man  of  genius.  The  porter, 
the  dancer,  the  universal  lover,  and  the  glutton  misdirect  the 
force  stored  up  in  their  systems  through  the  agency  of  elec- 
tricity. Indeed,  our  sentiments " 

"That  is  enough,  Balthazar!  You  terrify  me;  these  are 
blasphemies.  What !  my  love  for  you  is " 

"  Matter  etherealized,  and  given  off,"  answered  Claes,  "the 
secret  doubtless  of  the  Absolute.  Only  think  of  it !  If  I 

should  be  the  first — I  the  first — if  I  find  it  out if  I 

find if  I  find !" 

The  words  fell  from  him  in  three  different  tones  of  voice ; 
his  face  gradually  underwent  a  change ;  he  looked  like  a  man 
inspired. 

"  I  will  make  metals,  I  will  make  diamonds ;  all  that  nature 
does  I  will  do." 

"Will  you  be  any  happier?"  cried  Josephine,  in  her  de- 
spair. "Accursed  science!  Accursed  fiend  !  You  are  for- 
getting, Claes,  that  this  is  the  sin  of  pride  by  which  Satan 
fell.  You  are  encroaching  on  God !  " 

"Oh!  Oh!  " 

"He  denies  God!"  she  cried,  wringing  her  hands. 
"  Claes,  God  wields  a  power  which  will  never  be  yours." 

At  this  slight  on  his  beloved  science  Claes  looked  at  his 
wife,  and  a  quiver  seemed  to  pass  through  him. 

"What  force?"  he  said. 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  81 

"The  one  sole  force — movement.  That  is  what  I  have 
gathered  from  the  books  I  have  read  for  your  sake.  You  can 
analyze  flowers,  or  fruit,  or  Malaga  wine,  and  of  course  dis- 
cover their  exact  chemical  composition,  and  find  elements  in 
them  which  apparently  are  not  to  be  found  in  the  surround- 
ings, as  with  that  cress  you  spoke  of;  possibly  by  dint  of  effort 
you  could  collect  those  elements  together,  but  would  you 
make  flowers,  or  fruit,  or  Malaga  wine  from  them?  Could 
you  reproduce  the  mysterious  action  of  the  sun?  of  the 
Spanish  climate?  Decomposition  is  one  thing,  creation  is 
another." 

"  If  I  should  discover  the  compelling  force,  I  could  create." 

"Nothing  will  stop  him  !"  cried  Pepita,  with  despair 
in  her  voice.  "Oh!  my  love,  love  is  slain.  I  have  lost 
love " 

She  burst  into  sobs,  and  through  her  tears  her  eyes  seemed 
more  beautiful  than  ever  for  the  sorrow,  and  pity,  and  love 
that  shone  in  them. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  sobbing,  "you  are  dead  to  everything 
else.  I  see  it  all.  Science  is  stronger  in  you  than  you  yourself ; 
you  have  soared  too  far  and  too  high ;  you  can  never  drop  to 
earth  again  to  be  the  companion  of  a  poor  woman.  What 
happiness  could  I  give  you  now  ?  Ah  !  I  tried  to  believe  that 
God  had  made  you  to  show  forth  His  works  and  to  sing  His 
praises ;  that  this  irresistible  and  tyrannous  power  had  been 
set  in  your  heart  by  God's  own  hand.  It  was  a  melancholy 
consolation.  But,  no.  God  is  good ;  He  would  have  left  a 
little  room  in  your  heart  for  the  wife  who  idolizes  you,  and 
the  children  over  whom  you  should  watch.  The  devil  only 
could  enable  you  to  walk  alone  among  those  bottomless  pits ; 
in  darkness,  lighted  not  by  faith  in  heaven,  but  by  a  hideous 
belief  in  your  own  powers  !  Otherwise,  you  would  have  seen, 
dear,  that  you  had  run  through  nine  hundred  thousand  francs 
in  three  years.  Ah  !  do  me  justice,  my  God  on  earth  !  I  do 
not  murmur  at  anything  you  do.  If  we  had  only  each  other, 
6 


82  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

I  would  pour  out  both  our  fortunes  at  your  feet ;  I  would  pray 
you  to  take  it  and  fling  it  in  your  furnace,  and  laugh  to  see  it 
vanish  in  curling  smoke.  Then,  if  we  were  poor,  I  should 
not  be  ashamed  to  beg,  so  that  you  might  have  coal  for  your 
furnace  fire.  Oh  !  more  than  that,  I  would  joyfully  fling 
myself  into  it,  if  that  would  help  you  to  find  your  execrable 
Absolute,  since  it  seems  that  all  your  happiness  and  hopes  are 
bound  up  in  that  unsolved  riddle.  But  there  are  our  children, 
Claes ;  what  will  become  of  our  children  if  you  do  not  find 
out  this  hellish  secret  very  soon  ?  Do  you  know  why  Pierquin 
came  this  evening  ?  It  was  to  ask  for  thirty  thousand  francs, 
a  debt  which  we  cannot  pay.  Your  estates  are  yours  no 
longer.  I  told  him  that  you  had  the  thirty  thousand  francs, 
to  spare  the  awkwardness  of  answering  the  question  he  was 
certain  to  ask ;  and  it  has  occurred  to  me  that  we  might  raise 
the  money  by  selling  our  old-fashioned  silver." 

She  saw  the  tears  about  to  gather  in  her  husband's  eyes, 
flung  herself  at  his  feet,  and  raised  her  clasped  hands  implor- 
ingly in  despair. 

"  Dearest,"  she  cried,  "  if  you  cannot  give  up  your  studies, 
leave  them  for  a  little  until  we  can  save  money  enough  for  you 
to  resume  them  again.  Oh  !  I  do  not  condemn  them !  To 
please  you,  I  would  blow  your  furnace  fires ;  but  do  not  drag 
our  children  down  to  poverty  and  want.  You  cannot  love 
them  surely  any  more ;  science  has  eaten  away  your  heart,  but 
you  owe  it  to  them  to  leave  their  lives  unclouded,  you  must 
not  leave  them  to  a  life  of  wretchedness.  I  have  not  loved 
them  enough.  I  have  often  wished  that  I  had  borne  no  chil- 
dren, that  so  our  souls  might  be  knit  more  closely  together, 
that  I  might  share  your  inner  life  !  And  now,  to  stifle  the 
pangs  of  my  remorse,  I  must  plead  my  children's  cause  before 
my  own." 

Her  hair  had  come  unbound,  and  fell  over  her  shoulders ; 
all  the  thoughts  that  crowded  up  within  her  seemed  to  flash 
like  arrows  from  her  eyes.  She  triumphed  over  her  rival. 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  83 

Balthazar  caught  her  in  his  arms,  laid  her  on  the  sofa,  and  sat 
at  her  feet. 

"  And  is  it  I  who  have  caused  your  grief?  "  he  said,  speak- 
ing like  a  man  awakened  from  a  painful  dream. 

"Poor  Claes,  if  you  hurt  us,  it  was  in  spite  of  yourself," 
she  said,  passing  her  hand  through  his  hair.  "  Come,  sit 
here  beside  me,"  she  added,  pointing  to  a  place  on  the  sofa. 
"  There  !  I  have  forgotten  all  about  it,  now  that  we  have  you 
again.  It  is  nothing,  dear,  we  shall  retrieve  all  our  losses ; 
but  you  will  not  wander  so  far  from  your  wife  again  ?  Promise 
me  that  you  will  not.  My  great,  handsome  Claes.  You 
must  let  me  exercise  over  that  noble  heart  of  yours  the 
woman's  influence  that  artists  and  great  men  need  to  soothe 
them  in  failure  and  disappointment.  You  must  let  me  cross 
you  sometimes,  for  your  own  good.  I  will  never  abuse  the 
power,  and  you  may  answer  sharply  and  grumble  at  me. 
Yes,  you  shall  be  famous,  but  you  must  be  happy  too  !  Do 
not  put  chemistry  first.  Listen  !  we  will  not  ask  too  much  ; 
we  will  let  science  share  your  heart  with  us,  but  you  must  deal 
fairly,  and  our  half  of  your  heart  must  be  really  ours  !  Now, 
tell  me,  is  not  my  unselfishness  sublime?  " 

She  drew  a  smile  from  Balthazar.  With  a  woman's  won- 
derful tact,  she  had  changed  the  solemn  tone  of  their  talk, 
and  brought  the  burning  question  into  the  domains  of  jest,  a 
woman's  own  domain.  But  even  with  the  laughter  on  her 
lips,  something  seemed  to  clutch  tightly  at  her  heart,  and  her 
pulse  scarcely  throbbed  as  evenly  and  gently  as  usual ;  but 
when  she  saw  revived  in  Balthazar's  eyes  the  expression  which 
used  to  thrill  her  with  delight  and  exultation,  and  knew  that 
none  of  her  old  power  was  lost,  she  smiled  again  at  him  as 
she  said — 

"  Believe  me,  Balthazar,  nature  made  us  to  feel ;  and 
though  you  will  have  it  that  we  are  nothing  but  an  electrical 
mechanism,  your  gases  and  etherealized  matter  will  never 
account  for  our  power  of  foreseeing  the  future." 


84  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  "by  means  of  affinities.  The  power 
of  vision  which  makes  the  poet  and  the  deductive  power  of 
the  man  of  science  are  both  based  on  visible  affinities,  though 
they  are  impalpable  and  imponderable,  so  that  ordinary 
minds  look  on  them  as  moral  phenomena,  but  in  reality  they 
are  purely  physical.  Every  dreamer  of  dreams  sees  and 
draws  deductions  from  what  he  sees.  Unluckily,  such  affin- 
ities as  these  are  too  rare,  and  the  indications  are  too  slight 
to  be  submitted  to  analysis  and  observation." 

"And  this,"  she  said,  coming  closer  for  a  kiss,  to  put 
chemistry,  which  had  returned  so  inopportunely  at  her  ques- 
tion, to  flight  again,  "  is  this  to  be  an  affinity  ?  " 

"  No,  a  combination ;  two  substances  which  have  the  same 
sign  produce  no  chemical  action." 

"  Hush  !  hush  !  "  she  said,  "  if  you  do  not  wish  me  to  die 
of  sorrow.  Yes,  dear,  to  see  my  rival  always  before  me,  even 
in  the  ecstasy  of  love,  is  more  than  I  can  bear." 

"But,  my  dear  heart,  you  are  always  in  every  thought  of 
mine ;  my  work  is  to  make  our  name  famous,  you  are  the 
undercurrent  of  it  all." 

"  Let  us  see ;  look  into  my  eyes  !  " 

Excitement  had  brought  back  all  the  beauty  of  youth  to 
her  face,  and  her  husband  saw  nothing  but  her  face  above  a 
mist  of  lace  and  muslin.  "  Yes,  I  did  very  wrong  to  neglect 
you  for  science.  And,  Pepita,  when  I  fall  to  musing  again, 
as  I  shall  do,  you  must  rouse  me;  I  wish  it." 

Her  eyes  fell,  and  she  let  him  take  her  hand,  her  greatest 
beauty,  a  hand  that  was  at  once  strong  and  delicately  shaped. 

"But  I  am  not  satisfied  yet,"  she  said. 

"  You  are  so  enchantingly  lovely,  that  you  can  ask  and 
have  anything." 

"  I  want  to  wreck  your  laboratory  and  bind  this  science  of 
yours  in  chains,"  she  said,  fire  flashing  from  her  eyes. 

"Well,  then,  the  devil  take  chemistry!"  earnestly  ex- 
claimed Balthazar. 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  85 

"All  my  grief  is  blotted  out  at  this  moment,"  she  said; 
"after  this,  inflict  any  pain  on  me." 

Tears  came  to  Balthazar's  eyes  at  the  words. 

"  You  are  right,"  he  said ;  "I  only  saw  you  through  a  veil, 
as  it  were,  and  I  no  longer  heard  you,  it  had  come  to  that 


"If  I  had  been  alone,"  she  said,  "I  could  have  borne  it 
in  silence  ;  I  would  not  have  raised  my  voice,  my  sovereign ; 
but  there  were  your  sons  to  think  of,  Claes.  Be  sure  of  this, 
that  if  you  had  dissipated  all  your  fortune,  even  for  a  glorious 
end,  your  great  motives  would  have  weighed  for  nothing  with 
the  world,  your  children  would  have  suffered  for  what  the 
world  would  call  your  extravagance.  It  should  be  sufficient, 
should  it  not,  for  your  far-seeing  mind,  if  your  wife  calls  your 
attention  to  a  danger  which  you  had  not  noticed?  Let  us 
talk  no  more  about  it,"  she  added,  smiling  at  him,  with  a 
bright  light  dancing  in  her  eyes.  "Let us  not  be  only  half- 
happy  this  evening,  Claes." 

On  the  morrow  of  this  crisis  in  the  fortunes  of  the  house- 
hold, Balthazar  Claes  never  went  near  his  laboratory,  and 
spent  the  day  in  his  wife's  society.  Doubtless  at  Josephine's 
instance  he  had  promised  to  relinquish  his  experiments.  On 
the  following  day  the  family  went  to  spend  two  months  in  the 
country,  only  returning  to  town  to  make  preparations  for  the 
ball  that  had  always  been  given  in  former  years  on  the  anni- 
versary of  their  marriage. 

Balthazar's  affairs  had  become  greatly  involved,  partly 
through  debts,  partly  through  neglect ;  every  day  brought 
fresh  proof  of  this.  His  wife  never  added  to  his  annoyance 
by  reproaches ;  on  the  contrary,  she  did  her  utmost  to  meet 
and  smooth  over  their  embarrassments.  There  had  been 
seven  servants  in  their  household  on  the  occasion  of  their 
last  "At  Home,"  only  three  of  them  now  remained — Le  Mul- 
quinier,  Josette  the  cook,  and  an  old  waiting-maid,  Martha 
by  name,  who  had  been  with  her  mistress  ever  since  Mme. 


86  THE  QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

Claes  had  left  the  convent.  With  so  limited  a  retinue  it  was 
impossible  to  receive  the  aristocracy  of  Douai;  but  Mme. 
Claes,  who  was  equal  to  the  emergency,  suggested  that  a  chef 
should  be  sent  for  from  Paris,  that  their  gardener's  son  should 
be  pressed  into  their  service,  and  that  they  should  borrow 
Pierquin's  man.  Nothing  betrayed  the  straits  that  they  were  in. 

During  the  three  weeks  of  preparation  Mine.  Claes  kept  her 
husband  so  cleverly  employed  that  he  did  not  miss  his  old 
occupations.  She  commissioned  him  to  choose  the  flowers 
and  exotic  plants  for  the  decoration  of  the  staircase,  the 
rooms,  and  the  gallery;  at  another  time  she  sent  him  to 
Dunkirk  to  procure  some  of  the  huge  fish,  without  which  a 
Netherland  banquet  would  be  shorn  of  all  its  glory.  A  fete 
given  by  the  Claes  was  a  very  important  function,  demanding 
a  prodigious  amount  of  forethought  and  a  heavy  correspond- 
ence ;  for  in  the  Low  Countries,  where  family  traditions  of 
hospitality  are  sedulously  maintained,  for  masters  and  servants 
alike,  a  successful  dinner  is  a  triumph  scored  at  the  expense 
of  the  guests. 

Oysters  arrived  from  Ostend,  fruit  was  sent  for  from  Paris, 
and  grouse  from  Scotland,  no  detail  was  neglected,  the  Maison 
Claes  was  to  entertain  on  the  old  lavish  scale.  Moreover,  the 
ball  at  the  Maison  Claes  was  a  well-known  social  event  with 
which  the  winter  season  opened  in  Douai,  and  Douai  at  that 
time  was  the  chief  town  of  the  department.  For  fifteen  years, 
therefore,  it  had  behooved  Balthazar  to  distinguish  himself  on 
this  occasion  ;  and  so  well  had  he  acquitted  himself  as  a  host, 
that  the  ball  was  talked  of  for  twenty  leagues  round.  The 
toilets,  the  invitations  sent  out,  and  any  novelty  that  ap- 
peared even  in  the  smallest  details,  were  discussed  all  over  the 
department. 

This  bustle  of  preparation  left  Claes  little  time  for  medita- 
tion on  the  Quest  of  the  Absolute.  His  thoughts  had  been 
turned  into  other  channels,  old  domestic  instincts  revived  the 
dormant  pride  of  the  Fleming,  the  householder  awoke,  and 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  87 

the  man  of  science  flung  himself  heart  and  soul  into  the  task 
of  astonishing  the  town.  He  determined  that  some  new  re- 
finement of  art  should  give  this  evening  a  character  of  its  own  ; 
and  of  all  the  whims  of  extravagance  he  chose  the  fairest,  the 
costliest,  and  most  fleeting,  filling  his  house  with  scented 
thickets  of  rare  plants,  and  preparing  bouquets  for  the  ladies. 
Everything  was  in  keeping  with  this  unprecedented  luxury; 
it  seemed  as  if  nothing  that  could  ensure  success  were  lacking. 

But  the  zgth  Bulletin,  bearing  the  particulars  of  the  rout  of 
the  Grand  Army  and  of  the  terrible  passage  of  the  Beresina, 
reached  Douai  that  afternoon.  The  news  made  a  deep  and 
gloomy  impression  on  the  Douaisians,  and  out  of  patriotism 
every  one  declined  to  dance. 

Among  the  letters  that  reached  Douai  from  Poland,  there 
was  one  for  Balthazar.  It  was  from  M.  de  Wierzchownia, 
who  was  at  that  moment  in  Dresden,  dying  of  the  wounds 
received  in  a  recent  engagement.  Several  ideas  had  occurred 
to  him,  he  said,  since  they  had  spoken  together  of  the  Quest 
of  the  Absolute,  and  these  ideas  he  desired  to  leave  as  a  legacy 
to  his  host  of  three  years  ago.  After  reading  the  letter  Claes 
fell  into  deep  musings,  which  did  honor  to  his  patriotism ;  but 
his  wife  knew  better,  she  saw  that  a  second  and  deeper  shadow 
had  fallen  over  her  festival.  The  glory  of  the  Maison  Claes 
seemed  dimmed,  as  it  were,  by  its  approaching  eclipse;  there 
was  a  feeling  of  gloom  in  the  atmosphere  in  spite  of  the  mag- 
nificence, in  spite  of  the  display  of  all  the  treasures  of  bric-a- 
brac  collected  by  six  generations  of  amateurs,  and  now  beheld 
for  the  last  time  by  the  admiring  eyes  of  the  Douaisians. 

The  queen  of  the  evening  was  Marguerite,  who  made  her 
first  appearance  in  society.  All  eyes  were  turned  on  her, 
partly  because  of  her  fresh  simplicity  and  the  innocent  frank- 
ness of  her  expression,  partly  because  the  young  girl  seemed 
almost  like  a  part  of  the  old  house.  With  the  soft  rounded 
contour  of  her  face,  the  chestnut  hair  parted  in  the  middle, 
and  smoothed  down  on  either  side  of  her  brow,  clear  hazel 


88  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

eyes,  pretty  rounded  arms  and  plump  yet  slender  form,  she 
might  have  stepped  out  of  the  canvas  of  one  of  the  old  Flemish 
pictures  on  the  wall.  You  could  read  indications  of  a  firm 
will  in  the  broad  high  forehead,  gentle,  shy,  and  sedate  as  she 
seemed ;  and  though  there  was  nothing  sad  or  languid  about 
her,  there  was  but  little  girlish  gleefulness  in  her  face. 
Thoughtfulness  there  was,  and  thrift,  and  a  sense  of  duty,  all 
Flemish  characteristics;  and,  on  a  second  glance,  there  was  a 
certain  charm  and  softness  of  outline  and  a  meek  pride  which 
atoned  for  a  lack  of  animation,  and  gave  promise  of  domestic 
happiness.  By  some  freak  of  nature,  which  physiologists  as 
yet  cannot  explain,  she  bore  no  likeness  to  either  father  or 
mother,  but  she  was  the  living  image  of  her  maternal  great- 
grandmother,  a  Conyncks  of  Bruges,  whose  portrait  had  been 
religiously  preserved,  and  bore  witness  to  the  resemblance. 

Supper  gave  some  life  to  the  ball.  If  the  disasters  that  had 
befallen  the  Grand  Army  forbade  the  relaxation  of  dancing, 
no  one  apparently  felt  that  the  prohibition  need  apply  to  the 
pleasures  of  the  table.  Good  patriots,  however,  left  early, 
and  only  a  few  indifferent  spirits  remained,  with  some  few 
card-players,  and  the  intimate  friends  of  the  family.  Little 
by  little  silence  fell  on  the  brilliantly-lighted  house,  to  which 
all  Douai  had  been  wont  to  flock,  and  by  one  o'clock  in  the 
morning  the  gallery  was  empty,  the  candles  were  extinguished 
in  one  salon  after  another,  and  the  courtyard  itself,  so  lately 
full  of  noises  and  lights,  had  settled  down  into  its  wonted 
darkness  and  gloom.  It  was  like  a  foreshadowing  of  the 
future. 

As  soon  as  the  Claes  returned  to  their  rooms,  Balthazar 
gave  his  wife  the  Polish  officer's  letter  to  read;  she  gave  it 
back  to  him  mournfully,  she  foresaw  the  end. 

From  that  day  forth  the  tedium  of  his  life  began  visibly  to 
weigh  on  Balthazar's  spirits.  In  the  morning,  after  breakfast, 
he  used  to  play  with  little  Jean  for  a  while  in  the  parlor,  and 
talked  with  the  two  girls,  who  were  busy  with  their  sewing,  or 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  89 

embroidery,  or  lace-work ;  but  he  soon  wearied  of  the  play 
and  of  the  talk,  and  everything  seemed  to  be  a  set  task. 
When  his  wife  came  down,  having  changed  her  wrapper  for  a 
morning  dress,  he  was  still  sitting  in  the  low  chair,  gazing 
blankly  at  Marguerite  and  Felicie ;  the  rattle  of  their  bobbins 
apparently  did  not  disturb  him.  When  the  newspaper  came, 
he  read  it  defiberately  through,  like  a  retired  tradesman  at  a 
loss  how  to  kill  time.  Then  he  would  rise  to  his  feet,  look  at 
the  sky  for  a  while  through  the  window  panes,  listlessly  mend 
the  fire,  and  sit  down  again  in  his  chair,  as  if  the  tyrannous 
ideas  within  him  had  deprived  him  of  all  consciousness  of  his 
movements. 

Mine.  Claes  keenly  regretted  her  defective  education  and 
lack  of  memory.  It  was  difficult  for  her  to  sustain  an  inter- 
esting conversation  ;  perhaps  it  is  always  difficult  for  two  per- 
sons who  have  said  everything  to  each  other  to  find  anything 
new  to  talk  of  unless  they  look  for  it  among  indifferent  topics. 
The  life  of  the  heart  has  its  moments,  and  wants  contrasts; 
the  practical  questions  of  daily  life  are  soon  disposed  of  by 
energetic  minds  accustomed  to  make  prompt  decisions,  and 
social  frivolity  is  unendurable  to  two  souls  who  love.  Such 
souls,  thus  isolated,  who  know  each  other  thoroughly,  should 
seek  their  enjoyments  in  the  highest  regions  of  thought,  for  it 
is  impossible  to  set  something  little  against  something  that  is 
vast.  Moreover,  when  a  man  has  dwelt  for  long  on  great 
subjects,  he  is  not  easy  to  amuse,  unless  there  is  something  of 
the  child  in  his  nature,  the  power  of  flinging  himself  into  the 
present  moment,  the  simple  fresh-heartedness  that  makes  men 
of  great  genius  such  charming  children ;  but  is  not  this  youth- 
fulness  of  heart  rare  indeed  among  those  who  have  set  them- 
selves to  see  and  know  and  understand  all  things? 

During  those  months  Mme.  Claes  tried  all  the  expedients 
which  love  or  necessity  could  suggest ;  she  even  learned  to 
play  backgammon,  a  game  that  had  always  presented  insuper- 
able difficulties  to  her  mind ;  she  tried  to  interest  Balthazar 


90  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

in  the  girls'  education,  consulting  him  about  their  studies, 
planning  courses  of  lessons ;  but  all  these  resources  came  to 
an  end  at  last,  and  Josephine  and  Balthazar  were  in  somewhat 
the  same  position  as  Mme.  de  Maintenon  and  Louis  XIV. 
But  Mme.  de  Maintenon  could  bring  the  pomps  of  power  to 
her  aid  ;  she  had  wily  courtiers  who  lent  themselves  to  her 
comedies,  playing  their  parts  as  ambassadors  from  Siam,  and 
envoys  from  the  Grand  Sophi,  to  divert  a  weary  king  ;  and 
Louis  XIV.,  after  draining  the  wealth  of  France,  had  known 
what  it  was  to  be  reduced  to  a  younger  brother's  shifts  for 
raising  money ;  he  had  outlived  youth  and  success,  and  had 
come  to  know  old  age  and  failure,  and,  in  spite  of  his 
grandeur,  to  a  piteous  sense  of  his  own  helplessness ;  and  she, 
the  royal  bonne,  who  had  soothed  his  children,  was  not  always 
able  to  soothe  their  father,  who  had  squandered  wealth  and 
power  and  human  lives,  who  had  given  his  life  for  vanity  and 
set  God  at  nought,  and  was  now  paying  the  penalty  of  it  all. 
But  Claes  was  not  suffering  from  exhaustion,  but  from  unem- 
ployed energy. 

One  overwhelming  thought  possessed  him.  He  was  dream- 
ing of  the  glories  of  science,  of  adding  to  the  knowledge  of 
the  world,  of  fame  that  might  have  been  his.  He  was  suffer- 
ing as  a  struggling  artist  suffers,  like  Samson  bound  to  the 
pillars  of  the  temple  of  the  Philistines.  So  the  result  was 
much  the  same  for  the  two  sovereigns,  though  the  intellectual 
monarch  was  suffering  through  his  strength,  and  the  other 
through  his  weakness. 

What  could  Pepita  do,  unaided,  for  this  kind  of  scientific 
nostalgia  ?  At  first  she  tried  every  means  that  family  life 
afforded  her,  then  she  called  society  to  the  rescue,  and  gave 
two  "cafes"  every  week.  Cafes  had  recently  superseded 
"teas"  in  Douai.  At  these  social  functions,  the  invited 
guests  sipped  the  delicious  wines  and  liquors  with  which  the 
cellars  always  overflow  in  that  favored  land,  drank  their  cafe 
noir  or  cafe  au  lait  frappe,  and  partook  of  various  Flemish 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  91 

delicacies ;  while  the  women  sang  ballads,  discussed  each 
other's  toilets,  and  retailed  all  the  gossip  of  the  town.  It 
is  just  as  it  was  in  the  time  of  Mieris  or  Terburg,  always  the 
same  pictures,  but  some  of  the  details  are  altered ;  the  droop- 
ing scarlet  feathers  and  gray  high-crowned  hats  are  wanting, 
and  you  miss  the  guitars  and  the  picturesque  costumes  of  the 
sixteenth  century. 

Balthazar  made  strenuous  efforts  to  act  his  part  as  master 
of  the  house,  but  his  constrained  courtesy  and  forced  anima- 
tion left  him  in  a  state  of  languor,  which  showed  but  too 
plainly  what  inroads  the  malady  had  made,  and  these  dissipa- 
tions were  powerless  to  alleviate  the  symptoms.  Balthazar, 
on  the  brink  of  the  precipice,  might  catch  at  branch  after 
branch,  but  the  fall,  though  delayed,  was  so  much  the  heavier. 
He  never  spoke  of  his  old  occupations,  he  never  uttered 
regrets,  knowing  that  it  was  quite  impossible  to  continue  his 
work,  but  his  voice  and  movements  were  languid,  his  vitality 
seemed  to  be  at  a  low  ebb.  This  depression  could  be  seen 
even  in  the  listless  way  in  which  he  would  take  up  the  tongs, 
and  build  fantastic  pyramids  with  the  glowing  coals. 

It  was  a  visible  relief  when  the  evening  was  over;  sleep 
perhaps  delivered  him  for  a  while  from  the  importunities  of 
thought ;  but  with  the  morning  came  the  thought  that  another 
day  must  be  lived  through,  and  he  counted  the  hours  of  con- 
sciousness as  an  exhausted  traveler  might  reckon  out  the  leagues 
of  desert  that  lie  between  him  and  his  journey's  end. 

If  Mme.  Claes  knew  the  causes  of  this  weariness,  she  tried 
to  shut  her  eyes  to  its  effects ;  she  would  not  see  the  havoc 
that  it  wrought.  But  though  she  might  steel  herself  against 
the  sight  of  his  mental  distress,  his  kindness  of  heart  left  her 
helpless.  When  Balthazar  listened  to  Jean's  laughter  or  the 
girls'  chatter,  and  seemed  all  the  while  to  hear  an  inner 
thought  more  plainly  than  his  children's  voices,  Mme.  Claes 
did  not  dare  to  ask  him  what  that  thought  was ;  but  when  she 
saw  him  shake  off  his  sadness,  and  try  to  seem  cheerful,  that 


92  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

he  might  not  cast  a  gloom  over  others,  his  generosity  made 
her  falter  in  her  purpose.  His  romps  with  little  Jean  and 
playful  talk  with  the  two  little  girls  brought  a  flood  of  tears 
to  poor  Josephine's  eyes,  and  she  had  to  hurry  from  the  room 
to  hide  her  feelings ;  her  heroism  was  costing  her  dear,  it  was 
breaking  her  heart.  There  were  times  when  Mme.  Claes 
longed  to  say,  "  Kill  me,  and  do  as  you  like  !  " 

Little  by  little  the  fire  seemed  to  die  out  of  Balthazar's 
eyes,  and  the  dull  bluish  hues  of  age  crept  over  them.  Every- 
thing seemed  to  be  done  with  an  effort ;  there  was  a  dull 
hopelessness  in  the  tones  of  his  voice  and  in  his  manner  even 
towards  his  wife.  Towards  the  end  of  April  things  had  grown 
so  much  worse  that  Mme.  Claes  took  alarm.  She  had  blamed 
herself  bitterly  and  incessantly  for  having  exacted  this  promise, 
while  she  admired  the  Flemish  faith  and  loyalty  with  which  it 
was  kept.  One  day  when  Balthazar  looked  more  depressed 
than  ever,  she  hesitated  no  longer ;  she  would  sacrifice  every- 
thing if  so  he  might  live. 

"I  give  you  back  your  word,  dear,"  she  said. 

Balthazar  looked  at  her  in  amazement ;  for  the  moment  he 
could  hardly  comprehend  her  meaning. 

"  You  are  thinking  of  your  experiments,  are  you  not  ?  "  she 
went  on. 

He  answered  with  a  terrible  readiness,  by  a  gesture,  but 
Mme.  Claes  had  no  thought  of  reproach  ;  she  had  had  time 
to  sound  the  depths  of  the  abyss  into  which  they  were  both 
about  to  plunge  together.  She  took  his  hand  in  hers  and 
pressed  it  as  she  smiled  at  him. 

"  Thank  you,  dearest,"  she  said,  "  I  am  sure  of  my  power  ; 
you  have  given  up  what  was  dearer  than  life  for  my  sake.  Now 
it  is  my  turn  to  give  up.  I  have  sold  a  good  many  of  my 
diamonds,  but  there  are  some  left,  and  with  those  that  my 
brother  gave  me  we  could  raise  money  enough  for  you  to  con- 
tinue your  experiments.  I  thought  I  would  keep  the  jewels 
for  our  two  girls,  but  your  fame  will  more  than  make  up  for 


THE   QUEST  OF   THE  ABSOLUTE.  93 

the  sparkling  stones,  and,  besides,  you  will  give  them  finer 
diamonds  some  day." 

The  sudden  flash  of  joy  over  her  husband's  face  was  like  a 
death-knell  to  Josephine's  last  hopes,  and  she  saw  with  anguish 
that  his  passion  was  stronger  than  himself.  Claes  had  a  belief 
which  enabled  him  to  walk  without  faltering  in  a  path  which 
in  his  wife's  eyes  led  by  the  brink  of  a  precipice.  He  had  this 
faith  to  sustain  him,  but  to  her  who  had  no  faith  fell  the  heavier 
share  of  the  burden ;  does  not  a  woman  always  suffer  for  two  ? 
At  this  moment  she  chose  to  believe  in  his  success,  seeking 
thus  to  excuse  herself  for  her  share  in  the  certain  wreck  of 
their  fortunes. 

"The  love  of  my  whole  life  would  never  repay  your  devo- 
tion, Pepita,"  said  Claes,  deeply  moved. 

He  had  scarcely  spoken  the  words  before  Marguerite  and 
Felicie  came  into  the  room  to  wish  their  father  and  mother 
good-morning.  Mme.  Claes  looked  down  ;  for  a  moment  she 
felt  almost  guilty  before  the  two  children;  she  felt  that  she 
had  sacrificed  their  future  to  a  wild  delusion ;  but  her  husband 
took  them  on  his  knees  and  talked  and  laughed  with  them, 
because  the  joy  he  felt  craved  expression.  Thenceforth  Mme. 
Claes  shared  in  her  husband's  life  of  enthusiasm.  Science 
itself  and  desire  of  fame  was  everything  to  Claes ;  she  not 
only  sympathized  with  his  aims,  but  all  her  hopes  of  her  chil- 
dren's future  were  now  bound  up  in  his  pursuits.  Yet  when 
her  director  the  Abbe  de  Solis  had  sold  her  diamonds  for  her 
in  Paris,  when  packages  began  to  arrive  from  the  firm  of 
manufacturing  chemists,  all  the  unhappy  wife's  peace  of  mind 
deserted  her.  It  was  as  if  the  restless  malevolent  spirit  that 
possessed  her  husband  tormented  her  also,  and  she  lived  in 
constant  and  disquieting  expectation.  It  was  she  who  now 
sometimes  sat  like  one  dead  all  day  long  in  her  low  chair, 
unable  to  act  or  to  think  from  the  very  vehemence  of  her 
wishes.  Balthazar  was  at  work  the  while  in  his  laboratory, 
but  she  had  no  outlet  for  her  energies  ;  the  pent-up  forces  of 


94  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

her  nature  harassed  her  soul  as  doubts  and  fears.  Sometimes 
she  blamed  herself  for  weakly  humoring  a  passion  which  she 
felt  convinced  was  hopeless;  she  would  remember  M.  de 
Solis's  censure,  and  rise  from  her  chair  and  walk  to  the 
window,  and  look  up  at  the  laboratory  chimney  with  dismay 
and  dread.  If  a  curl  of  smoke  went  up  from  it,  she  would 
watch  it  rise  in  despair,  and  conflicting  ideas  strove  within  her 
until  her  brain  reeled.  Her  children's  future  was  vanishing 
in  that  smoke,  but  she  was  saving  their  father's  life.  Was  it 
not  her  first  duty  to  make  him  happy?  This  last  thought 
would  bring  peace  for  a  little  space. 

She  had  the  freedom  of  the  laboratory  now,  and  might 
stay  there  as  long  as  she  pleased,  but  even  this  melancholy 
satisfaction  had  to  be  given  up.  It  was  too  painful  to  see 
Balthazar  so  absorbed  in  his  work  that  he  did  not  even  notice 
her  presence ;  sometimes,  too,  she  felt  that  she  was  actually  in 
the  way;  the  pangs  of  jealousy  became  intolerable,  every  little 
unintentional  neglect  was  a  deadly  wound,  a  wild  desire  would 
seize  her  that  the  house  might  be  blown  up,  and  so  put  an  end  to 
it  all.  She  made  a  barometer,  therefore,  of  old  Le  Mulquinier. 
When  she  heard  him  whistle  as  he  came  and  went,  or  laid  the 
table  for  breakfast  and  dinner,  she  augured  that  her  husband's 
experiments  had  turned  out  well ;  that  there  was  some  hope 
of  success  in  the  near  future;  but  if  Le  Mulquinier  was  sad  or 
sulky,  she  turned  sad,  wistful  eyes  on  him :  was  Balthazar 
also  depressed  ?  A  sort  of  tacit  understanding  was  established 
between  them  at  last,  in  spite  of  the  proud  reserve  of  the  mis- 
tress and  the  surly  independence  of  the  manservant. 

She  had  no  resource  in  herself,  no  power  of  throwing  off 
the  thoughts  that  depressed  her ;  she  experienced  to  the  full 
every  crisis  of  hope  or  despair ;  the  load  of  anxiety  for  the 
husband  and  the  children  that  she  loved  weighed  more  and 
more  heavily  on  the  trembling  wife  and  mother.  She  scarcely 
noticed  how  dreary  the  house  was,  or  the  silence  and  gloom 
that  once  had  chilled  her  heart  as  she  sat  in  the  parlor  all  day 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  95 

long ;  she  had  grown  silent  too,  and  forgot  to  smile.  She 
brought  up  her  two  daughters  to  be  good  housewives  ;  with  a 
mother's  sad  foresight,  she  tried  to  teach  them  various 
branches  of  womanly  skill  against  the  day  when  they  might 
come  face  to  face  with  poverty.  But  beneath  the  monotonous 
surface  of  existence  the  pulses  of  life  beat  painfully.  By  the 
end  of  the  summer  Balthazar  had  not  only  spent  all  the 
money  which  the  old  Abbe  de  Solis  had  raised  by  selling  the 
diamonds  in  Paris,  but  he  was  in  debt — he  owed  some  twenty 
thousand  francs  to  Protez  and  Chiffreville. 

In  August,  1813,  about  a  year  after  the  day  of  the  opening 
scene  of  this  story,  Claes  was  no  nearer  the  end  in  view, 
though  he  had  made  several  interesting  discoveries,  for  which, 
unluckily,  he  cared  not  at  all.  The  day  which  saw  his  pro- 
gramme completely  carried  out  found  him  overwhelmed  with  a 
sense  of  failure.  The  thought  of  the  vast  sums  of  money  which 
had  been  spent,  and  all  to  no  purpose,  drove  him  to  despair. 
It  was  a  wretched  ending  to  his  hopes.  He  left  his  garret, 
came  slowly  down  into  the  parlor  where  the  children  were, 
sank  into  one  of  the  low  chairs,  and  sat  there  for  awhile  like 
one  dead,  paying  no  heed  to  the  questions  with  which  his  wife 
plied  him.  He  escaped  upstairs  that  he  might  have  no  wit- 
ness to  his  grief.  Josephine  followed  him,  and  brought  him 
into  her  room ;  and  there,  alone  with  her,  Balthazar  gave  way 
to  his  despair.  In  the  man's  tears,  in  the  broken  words  that 
bore  witness  to  the  artist's  discouragement,  in  the  remorse  of 
the  father,  there  was  something  so  wild  and  incoherent,  so 
dreadful,  so  touching,  that  Mme.  Claes,  watching  him,  felt  an 
anguish  that  she  had  never  known  before.  The  victim  com- 
forted the  executioner. 

When  Balthazar  said  with  horrible  earnestness,  "  I  am  a 
scoundrel;  I  am  risking  our  children's  lives  and  yours;  I 
ought  to  kill  myself,  it  would  be  a  good  thing  for  you  all," 
the  words  cut  her  to  the  heart.  She  knew  her  husband  so 
well  that  she  was  in  terror  lest  he  should  act  at  once  on  this 


96  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

horrible  suggestion  ;  and  one  of  those  revulsions  of  feeling 
that  stir  life  to  its  depths  swept  over  her,  a  revulsion  all  the 
more  dangerous  because  Pepita  allowed  no  sign  of  agitation 
to  appear,  and  tried  to  be  calm  and  dispassionate. 

"  This  time  I  have  not  consulted  Pierquin,  dear,"  she  said; 
"  he  may  be  friendly,  but  he  would  not  be  above  feeling  a 
secret  satisfaction  if  we  were  ruined,  so  I  have  taken  the 
advice  of  an  old  man  who  has  a  father's  kindness  for  us.  My 
confessor,  the  Abbe  de  Solis,  suggested  a  way  of  averting 
ruin  at  any  rate.  He  came  to  see  your  pictures ;  and  he  thinks 
that  if  we  sell  those  in  the  gallery  we  could  pay  off  all  the 
mortgages  as  well  as  your  debts  to  Protez  and  Chiffreville,  for 
I  expect  there  is  something  owing  to  them." 

Claes  bent  his  head  as  a  sign  of  assent ;  already  his  hair  had 
grown  white. 

"  M.  de  Solis  knows  the  Happes  and  the  Dunckers  of  Am- 
sterdam," she  went  on;  "  they  have  a  mania  for  buying  pic- 
tures, their  money  was  only  made  yesterday;  and  as  they 
know  that  such  works  of  art  are  only  to  be  found  in  old  family 
collections,  they  will  only  be  too  glad  to  give  their  full  value 
for  the  paintings.  Even  when  our  estates  are  clear,  there  will 
still  be  something  left  over,  for  the  pictures  will  bring  in  at 
least  a  hundred  thousand  ducats,  and  then  you  can  go  on  with 
your  work.  We  need  very  little,  the  two  girls  and  I ;  we  will 
be  very  careful ;  and  in  time  we  will  save  money  enough  to  fill 
the  empty  frames  again  with  other  pictures,  and  in  the  mean- 
time you  shall  be  happy." 

Balthazar  raised  his  face  to  his  wife's ;  he  felt  half-doubtful, 
half-relieved.  They  had  exchanged  roles.  The  wife  had  be- 
come the  protecting  power  ;  and  he,  in  spite  of  the  sympathy 
of  hearts  between  them,  held  Josephine  in  his  arms,  and  did 
not  feel  that  she  was  convulsed  with  anguish,  did  not  see  how 
the  tresses  of  her  hair  were  shaken  by  the  throbbing  of  her 
heart,  nor  notice  the  nervous  quivering  of  her  lips. 

"I   have  not   dared  to  tell  you,"  he  cried,  "that  I  am 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  97 

scarcely  separated  from  the  Absolute  by  a  hair's-breadth.  I 
have  only  to  discover  a  means  of  submitting  metals  to  intense 
heat  in  a  vessel  where  the  pressure  of  the  atmosphere  is  nil — 
in  short,  in  a  perfect  vacuum — and  I  shall  volatilize  them." 

Mme.  Claes  almost  broke  down,  the  egoistic  answer  was 
too  much  for  her.  She  had  expected  passionate  gratitude  for 
her  devotion,  and  she  received — a  problem  in  chemistry.  She 
left  her  husband  abruptly,  went  downstairs  into  the  parlor, 
sank  into  her  low  chair  again,  and  burst  into  tears.  Her  two 
daughters,  Marguerite  and  Felicie,  each  took  one  of  her  hands 
in  theirs,  and  knelt  on  either  side  of  her,  wondering  at  her 
grief. 

"  What  is  it  mother?  "  they  asked  her  again  and  again. 

"  Poor  children  !  I  am  dying  ;  I  feel  that  I  have  not  long 
to  live." 

Marguerite  shuddered  as  she  looked  at  her  mother's  face, 
and  for  the  first  time  noticed  a  ghastly  pallor  beneath  the 
dark  olive  hue  of  the  skin. 

"  Martha  !  Martha  !  "  called  Felicie.  "  Come  here,  mamma 
wants  you." 

The  old  waiting-woman  came  running  from  the  kitchen. 
When  she  saw  the  livid  color  that  had  replaced  the  dusky 
brown-red  tints  in  her  mistress'  face — 

"Body  of  Christ!"  she  cried  in  Spanish,  "madame  is 
dying!  " 

She  hurried  away  to  bid  Josette  heat  soma  water  for  a  foot- 
bath for  her  mistress,  and  then  returned. 

"Don't  frighten  the  master,  Martha;  say  nothing  about 
it,"  said  Mme.  Claes.  "Poor  dear  girls!"  she  added  con- 
vulsively, clasping  Marguerite  and  Felicie  to  her  heart.  "  If 
I  could  only  live  long  enough  to  see  you  both  happy  and 
married.  Martha,"  she  went  on,  "  tell  Le  Mulquinier  to  go 
to  M.  de  Solis  and  ask  him  to  come  to  see  me." 

The  thunderbolt  that  struck  down  the  mistress  of  the  house 
naturally  brought  dismay  in  the  kitchen.  Josette  and  Martha, 
7 


98  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

old  and  devoted  servants,  were  so  deeply  attached  to  Mme. 
Claes  and  her  two  daughters  that  the  blow  was  as  heavy  as  it 
was  unexpected.  The  terrible  words:  ''Madame  is  dying, 
monsieur  must  have  killed  her !  Be  quick  and  get  ready  a 
mustard  bath  !  "  had  drawn  sundry  ejaculations  from  Josette, 
who  hurled  them  at  Le  Mulquinier.  Le  Mulquinier,  calm  and 
phlegmatic  as  ever,  was  eating  his  breakfast  at  a  corner  of  the 
table,  underneath  one  of  the  windows  which  looked  out  on 
the  yard.  The  whole  kitchen  was  as  spick  and  span  as  the 
daintiest  boudoir. 

"I  knew  how  it  would  end,"  remarked  Josette,  looking 
straight  at  the  valet  as  she  spoke.  She  had  climbed  on  to  a 
stool  to  reach  down  a  copper  kettle  which  shone  like  burnished 
gold.  "  What  mother  could  look  on  and  see  her  children's 
father  amusing  himself  by  frittering  away  a  fortune,  like  the 
master  does,  and  everything  flying  away  in  smoke." 

Josette's  countenance,  framed  in  its  frilled  cap,  was  not  un- 
like the  round  wooden  nut-crackers  that  Germans  carve ;  she 
gave  Le  Mulquinier  a  sharp  glance  out  of  her  little  bloodshot 
eyes,  which  was  almost  venomous.  For  all  answer  the  old 
valet  gave  a  shrug  worthy  of  a  sorely-tried  Mirabeau,  and 
opened  his  cavernous  mouth,  but  only  to  put  a  piece  of  bread 
and  butter,  accompanied  by  a  morsel  of  red  herring,  into  it. 

"If  madame  would  let  monsieur  have  some  money,"  he 
said  at  length,  "  instead  of  bothering  him,  we  should  all  be 
swimming  in  gold  very  soon  !  There  is  not  the  thickness  of 
a  farthing  between  us  and  the " 

"  Well,  then,  you,  with  your  twenty  thousand  francs  of 
savings,  why  don't  you  hand  them  over  to  the  master?  He 
is  your  master,  and  since  you  put  such  faith  in  his  sayings  and 
doings " 

"  You  know  nothing  about  them,  Josette.  Just  mind  your 
pots  and  pans,  and  boil  the  water,"  said  the  Fleming,  inter- 
rupting the  cook. 

"  I  know  what  I  know;  I  know  that  we  once  had  several 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  99 

thousand  ounces  of  silver  plate  here,  and  you  have  melted  it 
down,  you  and  your  master  between  you  ;  and  we  shall  very 
soon  have  only  six  halfpennies  left  out  of  five  pence,"  sharply 
retorted  Josette. 

"  And  the  master,"  put  in  Martha,  "  will  kill  madame,  and 
get  rid  of  a  wife  who  holds  him  back,  and  will  not  let  him  eat 
everything  up.  He  is  possessed,  that  is  quite  plain.  You  are 
risking  your  soul  at  the  least,  Le  Mulquinier,  if  you  have  one, 
that  is,  for  you  are  just  like  a  block  of  ice,  when  all  the  rest 
of  us  are  in  such  trouble.  The  young  ladies  are  crying  like 
Magdalens.  Be  quick  and  go  for  M.  de  Solis  !  " 

"  I  have  the  master's  orders  to  set  the  laboratory  straight," 
said  the  valet.  "It  is  too  far  from  here  to  the  Quartier 
d'Esquerchin.  Go  yourself." 

"  Just  listen  to  the  brute  !  "  said  Martha.  "  Who  is  to  give 
madame  her  foot-bath  ?  Is  she  to  be  left  to  die,  with  the  blood 
gone  to  her  head?  " 

"Mulquinier!"  said  Marguerite  from  the  dining-room, 
which  was  next  to  the  kitchen,  "when  you  have  left  the 
message  for  M.  de  Solis,  go  and  ask  Dr.  Pierquin  to  come  at 
once." 

"  Hein  !  you  will  have  to  go!  "  said  Josette. 

"  Mademoiselle,  monsieur  told  me  to  clear  out  the  labora- 
tory," answered  Le  Mulquinier,  turning  triumphantly  to  the 
two  women-servants. 

M.  Claes  came  down  the  stairs  at  this  moment,  and  Mar- 
guerite spoke  to  him.  "  Father,  can  you  spare  us  Mulquinier 
to  go  on  an  errand  into  the  town  ?  " 

"There,  you  miserable  old  heathen,  you  will  have  to  go 
now ! ' '  said  Martha,  as  she  heard  M.  Claes  answer  in  the 
affirmative. 

The  lack  of  good-will  and  devotion  to  the  family  on  the 
valet's  part  was  a  sore  point ;  the  two  women  and  Le  Mulquinier 
were  always  bickering,  and  his  indifference  increased  their 
loyal  affection.  This  apparently  paltry  quarrel  was  to  bring 


100  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

about  great  results  in  future  days  when  the  family  stood  in 
need  of  help  in  misfortune. 

Once  more  Balthazar  became  so  absorbed  that  he  did  not 
notice  how  ill  his  wife  was.  He  gave  little  Jean  a  ride  on  his 
knee,  but  his  thoughts  were  all  the  while  with  the  problem 
which  he  might  hope  once  more  to  solve.  He  saw  the  water 
brought  for  his  wife's  foot-bath,  for  she  had  not  strength  to 
leave  the  parlor,  or  the  low  chair  into  which  she  had  sunk. 
He  watched  the  two  girls  as  they  busied  themselves  about  their 
mother,  and  did  not  try  to  account  for  their  anxiety  and  care 
of  her.  Mme.  Claes  laid  her  fingers  on  her  lips  if  Marguerite 
or  Jean  seemed  about  to  speak.  A  scene  of  this  nature  was 
certain  to  make  a  young  girl  think ;  and  Marguerite,  standing 
between  her  father  and  mother,  was  old  enough  and  sensible 
enough  to  understand  what  it  meant.  She  realized  that  her 
father  was  most  directly  concerned  in  her  mother's  troubles. 

A  time  always  comes  in  the  history  of  every  family  when 
the  children  begin  consciously  or  unconsciously  to  judge  their 
parents.  Mme.  Claes  felt  that  this  critical  time  had  come ; 
that  the  girl  of  sixteen,  with  her  strong  sense  of  justice,  would 
see  what  would  appear  to  her  to  be  her  father's  faults  very 
plainly,  and  Mme.  Claes  set  herself  to  justify  his  conduct. 
The  profound  respect  which  she  showed  for  him  at  this  mo- 
ment, the  way  in  which  she  effaced  herself  for  fear  of  disturb- 
ing his  meditations,  left  a  deep  impression  on  her  children's 
minds ;  they  looked  on  their  father  with  something  like  awe. 
But  in  spite  of  the  infectious  nature  of  this  devotion,  Mar- 
guerite could  not  help  recognizing  it,  and  her  admiration  in- 
creased for  the  mother  to  whom  she  was  bound  so  closely  by 
every  incident  of  daily  life.  The  young  girl's  affection  had 
deepened  ever  since  she  had  dimly  divined  her  mother's 
troubles  and  had  pondered  over  them  ;  no  human  power  could 
have  kept  the  knowledge  of  them  from  Marguerite ;  a  word 
heedlessly  let  fall  by  Josette  or  Martha  had  enlightened  her 
as  to  their  cause.  In  spite  of  Mme.  Claes'  reserve,  her 


THE    QUEST  OF   THE  ABSOLUTE.  101 

daughter  had  unraveled  thread  by  thread  the  mystery  of  this 
household  tragedy. 

In  time  to  come  Marguerite  would  be  her  mother's  active 
helper  and  confidante,  and,  perhaps,  in  the  end  a  formidable 
judge.  Mme.  Claes  watched  Marguerite  anxiously,  and  tried 
to  fill  her  heart  with  her  own  devotion  ;  she  saw  the  young 
girl's  firmness  and  sound  judgment,  and  shuddered  to 
think  of  possible  strife  between  father  and  daughter  when 
she  should  be  no  more,  and  Marguerite  had  taken  her  place. 
Poor  woman  !  she  dreaded  the  consequences  of  her  death  far 
more  than  death  itself.  The  resolution  she  had  just  taken  had 
been  prompted  by  forethought  for  Balthazar.  By  freeing  her 
husband's  estate  from  all  liabilities,  she  left  it  independent, 
and  forestalled  all  future  disputes  by  separating  his  interests 
from  those  of  her  children ;  she  hoped  to  see  him  happy  until 
her  eyes  were  closed,  and  when  that  day  came,  Marguerite 
would  be  the  guardian  angel  who  watched  over  the  family. 
She  hoped  to  leave  her  tenderness  in  Marguerite's  heart,  and 
so,  from  beyond  the  grave,  her  love  should  still  shine  upon 
those  so  dear  to  her.  Yet  she  shrank  from  lowering  Claes  in 
Marguerite's  eyes,  and  would  not  impart  her  misgivings  and 
fears  until  the  inevitable  moment  came;  she  watched  Mar- 
guerite more  closely  than  ever,  wondering  whether  of  her  own 
accord  the  young  girl  would  be  a  mother  to  her  brothers  and 
sister,  and  a  gentle  and  tender  helpmeet  to  her  father. 

So  Mme.  Claes'  last  days  were  embittered  by  fears  and  sad 
forebodings  of  which  she  could  speak  to  no  one.  She  felt 
that  her  deathblow  had  been  dealt  her  in  that  last  fatal  scene, 
and  her  thoughts  turned  to  the  future ;  while  Balthazar,  now 
totally  unfitted  for  the  cares  of  property  and  the  interests  of 
domestic  life,  thought  of  nothing  but  the  Absolute.  The 
deep  silence  in  the  parlor  was  only  broken  by  the  monotonous 
beating  of  Balthazar's  foot ;  he  did  not  notice  that  little  Jean 
had  wearied  of  his  ride,  and  climbed  down  from  his  father's 
knee.  Marguerite,  sitting  beside  her  mother,  looked  at  her 


102  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

white,  sorrowful  face,  and  then  glanced  from  time  to  time  at 
her  father,  and  wondered  why  he  showed  no  feeling.  Pres- 
ently the  street  door  shut  to  with  a  clang  that  echoed  through 
the  house,  and  the  family  saw  the  old  Abbe  de  Solis  slowly 
crossing  the  court  leaning  on  his  nephew's  arm. 

"  Oh  !  here  is  M.  Emmanuel,"  cried  Felicie. 

"Good  boy!  "  murmured  Mme.  Claes,  as  she  saw  Em- 
manuel de  Solis  ;  "  I  am  glad  to  see  him  again." 

Marguerite's  face  flushed  at  her  mother's  praise.  Only  two 
days  ago  the  sight  of  the  Abbe's  nephew  had  stirred  myste- 
rious feelings  in  her  heart  and  awakened  thoughts  that  had 
hitherto  lain  dormant.  Only  two  days  ago  her  mother's  con- 
fessor had  come  to  see  the  pictures  in  the  gallery,  and  one  of 
those  small  events  that  pass  unheeded,  and  alter  the  whole 
course  of  a  life,  had  then  taken  place ;  for  this  reason  a  brief 
sketch  of  the  two  visitors  must  be  given  here. 

Mme.  Claes  made  it  a  rule  of  conduct  to  perform  the  duties 
of  her  religion  in  private.  Her  director,  who  now  entered 
the  house  for  the  second  time,  was  scarcely  known  by  sight  to 
its  inmates  ;  but  it  was  impossible  to  see  the  uncle  and  nephew 
together  without  feeling  touched  and  reverent,  and  their  visit 
had  left  the  same  impression  on  every  one. 

The  Abbe  de  Solis  was  an  old  man  of  eighty,  with  silver 
hair ;  all  the  ebbing  life  in  the  feeble,  wasted  face  seemed  to 
linger  in  the  eyes.  He  walked  with  difficulty,  for  one  of  his 
shrunken  legs  terminated  in  a  painfully  deformed  foot  encased 
in  a  velvet  wrapping,  so  that  he  always  needed  the  support  of 
a  crutch  or  of  his  nephew's  arm.  Yet  when  you  saw  the  bent 
figure  and  emaciated  frame,  you  felt  that  an  iron  will  sustained 
that  fragile  and  suffering  body,  and  that  a  pure  and  religious 
soul  dwelt  within  it.  The  Spanish  priest,  distinguished  for 
his  vast  learning,  his  knowledge  of  the  world,  and  his  sincere 
piety,  had  been  successively  a  Dominican  friar,  cardinal-peni- 
tentiary of  Toledo,  and  vicar-general  of  the  archbishopric  of 
Mechlin.  The  influence  of  the  house  of  Casa-Real  would 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  103 

have  made  him  one  of  the  highest  dignitaries  of  the  church ; 
but  even  if  the  French  Revolution  had  not  put  an  end  to  his 
ecclesiastical  career,  grief  for  the  death  of  the  young  Duke, 
whose  governor  he  had  been,  had  led  him  to  retire  from  active 
life,  and  to  devote  himself  entirely  to  the  education  of  a 
nephew,  who  had  been  left  an  orphan  at  a  very  early  age. 

After  the  French  conquest  of  the  Netherlands  he  had  set- 
tled in  Douai  to  be  near  Mme.  Claes.  In  his  youth  he  had 
felt  an  enthusiastic  reverence  for  Saint  Theresa,  and  had 
always  decided  leanings  towards  the  more  mystical  side  of 
Christianity.  There  have  always  been  Illuminists  and 
Quietists  in  Flanders ;  Mile.  Bourignon  made  most  of  her 
converts  among  the  Flemings;  and  the  old  Abb6  de  Solis 
found  a  little  flock  of  Catholics  in  Douai,  who  still  clung, 
undeterred  by  papal  censure,  to  the  doctrines  of  Fenelon  and 
Mme.  Guyon,  and  was  the  more  glad  to  stay  among  them 
because  they  looked  on  him  as  a  father  in  the  faith.  His 
morals  were  austere,  his  life  had  been  exemplary ;  it  was  said 
that  he  had  the  gift  of  trance,  and  had  seen  visions.  But  the 
stern  ascetic  was  not  utterly  divorced  from  the  things  of  this 
life ;  his  affection  for  his  nephew  was  a  link  that  bound  him  to 
the  world,  and  he  was  thrifty  for  Emmanuel's  sake.  He  laid 
his  flock  under  contribution  for  a  work  of  charity  before  hav- 
ing recourse  to  his  own  purse ;  and  he  was  so  widely  known 
and  respected  for  his  disinterestedness,  his  perspicacity  was  so 
seldom  at  fault,  that  every  one  was  ready  to  answer  his 
appeals.  To  give  some  idea  of  the  contrast  between  uncle 
and  nephew,  the  older  man  might  be  compared  to  a  hollow 
willow  by  the  .waterside,  and  the  younger  to  a  briar-rose 
climbing  about  the  old  lichen-covered  tree,  and  covering  it 
with  graceful  garlands,  which  seem  to  support  it. 

Emmanuel  had  been  rigidly  brought  up.  His  uncle  hardly 
allowed  him  to  go  out  of  his  sight ;  no  damsel  was  ever  more 
jealously  guarded  by  her  mother  ;  and  Emmanuel  was  almost 
morbidly  conscientious  and  innocently  romantic.  Souls  that 


104  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

draw  all  their  force  from  religion  retain  the  bloom  of  youth 
that  is  rubbed  off  so  soon,  and  the  old  priest  had  checked  the 
development  of  pleasure-loving  instincts  in  his  pupil ;  con- 
stant study  and  an  almost  monastic  discipline  had  been  his 
preparation  for  the  battle  of  life.  Such  a  bringing  up,  which 
launched  Emmanuel  into  the  world  with  all  his  youthful 
freshness  of  heart,  might  make  his  happiness  if  his  affections 
were  rightly  placed  at  the  outset,  and  had  endowed  him  with 
an  angelic  purity  which  invested  him  with  something  of  the 
charm  of  a  young  girl.  The  gentle  eyes  veiled  a  brave  and 
fearless  soul ;  there  was  a  light  in  them  that  thrilled  other 
souls,  as  the  sound  given  out  by  crystal  vibrates  on  the  ear. 
His  face  was  eloquent,  yet  his  features  were  regular ;  no  one 
could  fail  to  be  struck  by  their  flawless  delicacy  of  outline, 
and  by  the  expression  of  repose  which  comes  from  inward 
peace.  His  fair  complexion  seemed  still  more  brilliant  by 
force  of  contrast  with  his  dark  eyes  and  hair.  Everything 
about  him  was  in  harmony;  his  voice  did  not  disappoint  the 
expectations  raised  by  so  beautiful  a  face,  and  his  almost 
feminine  grace  of  movement  and  clear,  soft  gaze  were  in 
keeping  with  his  voice.  He  did  not  seem  to  be  aware  that 
his  half-melancholy  reserve,  his  self-repression,  his  respectful 
and  tender  solicitude  for  his  uncle,  excited  interest  in  him; 
but  no  one  who  had  seen  the  two  together — the  younger  man 
carefully  adapting  himself  to  the  old  Abba's  tottering  gait, 
needfully  looking  ahead  for  the  smoothest  path,  and  avoiding 
any  obstacle  over  which  the  elder  might  stumble,  could  fail  to 
recognize  in  Emmanuel  those  generous  qualities  of  heart  and 
brain  that  make  man  so  noble  a  creature. 

Emmanuel's  real  greatness  showed  itself  in  his  love  for  his 
uncle,  who  could  do  no  wrong  in  his  eyes,  to  whom  he 
rendered  an  unquestioning  obedience  ;  some  prophetic  in- 
stinct, surely,  had  suggested  the  gracious  name  given  to  him 
at  the  font.  If  in  private  or  abroad  the  old  Abb£  exerted  the 
stern  and  arbitrary  authority  of  a  Dominican  father,  Em- 


SHE    TURNED,    WITH    A    SWAN-LIKE    MOVEMENT    OF   HER 
THROAT,    TO    GLANCE    ONCE    MORE    AT    EMMANUEL. 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE,  105 

manuel  would  sometimes  raise  his  head  in  such  noble  protest—- 
with a  gesture  which  seemed  to  say  if  another  man  had  ven- 
tured to  oppose  him,  he  would  have  shown  his  spirit — that 
gentle  natures  were  touched  by  it,  as  painters  are  moved  by 
the  sight  of  a  great  work  of  art ;  for  a  beautiful  thought  has 
the  same  power  to  stir  our  souls,  whether  it  is  revealed  in  a 
living  human  form,  or  made  real  for  us  by  the  power  of  art. 

Emmanuel  had  come  with  his  uncle  to  see  the  pictures  in 
the  Maison  Claes ;  and  Marguerite,  having  learned  from  Mar- 
tha that  the  Abbe  de  Solis  was  in  the  picture  gallery,  found 
some  slight  pretext  for  speaking  to  her  mother,  so  that  she 
might  see  the  great  man  of  whom  she  had  heard  so  much. 
She  had  gone  thither  unthinkingly,  hiding  her  little  stratagem 
under  the  careless  manner  by  which  young  girls  so  effec- 
tually conceal  their  real  thoughts,  and  by  the  side  of  the  old 
man  dressed  in  black,  with  his  deathly  pallor  and  bent  and 
stooping  frame,  she  had  seen  Emmanuel's  young  and  beautiful 
face.  The  two  young  creatures  had  gazed  at  each  other  with 
the  same  childlike  wonder  in  their  eyes;  Emmanuel  and  Mar- 
guerite must  surely  have  met  each  other  before  in  their  dreams. 
Their  eyes  fell  at  once,  and  met  again  with  the  same  uncon- 
scious avowal. 

Marguerite  took  her  mother's  arm  and  spoke  to  her  in  a 
low  voice  to  keep  up  the  pretence  of  her  errand ;  and  from 
under  shelter  of  her  mother's  wing,  as  it  were,  she  turned, 
with  a  swanlike  movement  of  her  throat,  to  glance  once  more 
at  Emmanuel,  who  still  stood  supporting  his  uncle. 

The  windows  of  the  gallery  had  been  distributed  so  that  all 
the  light  should  fall  on  the  pictures,  and  the  dimness  of  the 
shadows  favored  the  stolen  glsmces  which  are  the  delight  of 
timid  souls.  Neither  of  them  had,  of  course,  advanced  even 
in  thought  as  far  as  the  if  with  which  passion  begins ;  but 
both  of  them  felt  that  their  hearts  were  stirred  with  a  vague 
trouble  which  youth  keeps  to  itself,  shrinking  perhaps  from 
disclosing  the  secret,  or  wishing  to  linger  over  its  sweetness. 


106  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

The  first  impression  which  calls  forth  the  long-dormant  emo- 
tion of  youth  is  nearly  always  followed  by  a  mute  wonder 
such  as  children  feel  when,  for  the  first  time,  they  hear  music. 
Some  children  laugh  at  first,  and  then  grow  thoughtful ;  others 
listen  gravely  for  a  while,  and  then  begin  to  laugh ;  but  there 
are  souls  who  are  destined  to  live  for  poetry  or  love,  and  they 
listen  long,  with  a  mute  request  to  hear  the  music  again ;  their 
eyes  are  lighted  up  with  pleasure,  or  with  a  dawning  sense  of 
wonder  at  the  Infinite.  If  we  are  always  bound  with  all  the 
force  of  early  association  to  the  spot  where  we  first  understood 
the  beauty  and  mystery  of  sound ;  if  we  remember  the  musi- 
cian and  even  the  instrument  with  delight,  how  can  we  help 
loving  the  other  soul  that  for  the  first  time  reveals  the  music 
of  life  to  us  ?  Does  not  the  heart  from  which  we  draw  our 
first  breath  of  love  become,  as  it  were,  our  native  country? 
Emmanuel  and  Marguerite  were  each  for  each  that  musical 
voice  which  awakens  a  sleeping  sense ;  it  was  as  if  a  hand  had 
withdrawn  the  veil  of  cloud  and  pointed  out  to  them  the 
distant  shore  bathed  in  a  noonday  blaze  of  light. 

When  Mme.  Claes  made  the  Abbe  pause  for  a  moment  be- 
fore the  picture  of  an  angel  by  Guido,  Marguerite  leaned 
forward  a  little  to  see  what  Emmanuel  thought  of  it,  and 
Emmanuel  glanced  at  Marguerite,  comparing  the  mute  thought 
shadowed  forth  on  the  painter's  canvas  with  the  thought 
revealed  in  the  girl  who  stood  there  in  life  before  him.  She 
felt  and  understood  the  unconscious  and  delicious  flattery. 
The  old  Abbe  gravely  praised  the  beautiful  composition,  and 
Mme.  Claes  replied ;  the  young  people  were  silent. 

The  mysterious  dusk  of  the  gallery,  the  quiet  that  brooded 
over  the  house,  the  presence  of  their  elders,  all  the  circum- 
stances of  their  meeting,  served  to  stamp  it  on  the  memory, 
and  to  deepen  the  vague  outlines  of  a  shadowy  dream.  All 
the  confused  thoughts  that  fell  like  rain  in  Marguerite's  soul 
seemed  to  have  spread  themselves  out  like  a  wide,  clear  sea, 
which  was  lighted  up  by  a  ray  of  light  when  Emmanuel  stam- 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  107 

mered  out  a  few  words  as  he  took  leave  of  Mrae.  Claes.  The 
young  rich  voice  exerted  a  mysterious  spell  over  her  heart ; 
the  revelation  was  complete ;  it  only  rested  with  Emmanuel 
whether  it  should  bear  fruit  for  him ;  for  the  man  who  first 
awakens  love  in  a  girl's  heart  is  often  an  unconscious  instru- 
ment of  fate,  and  leaves  his  work  unfinished.  Marguerite 
bowed  in  confusion  ;  her  good-bye  was  a  glance  that  seemed 
to  express  her  regret  at  losing  this  pure  and  charming  vision. 
Like  the  child,  she  wanted  to  hear  her  music  once  again. 

The  leave-taking  took  place  at  the  foot  of  the  old  staircase, 
before  the  parlor  door,  and  from  the  parlor  window  she 
watched  the  uncle  and  nephew  cross  the  court,  and  followed 
them  with  her  eyes  until  the  street  door  closed  on  them. 
Mme.  Claes  had  been  so  deeply  engrossed  with  the  weighty 
matters  which  her  director  had  come  to  discuss,  that  she  had 
not  thought  of  watching  her  daughter's  face  ;  and  on  the 
occasion  of  this  second  visit  she  was  again  full  of  such  terrible 
trouble  that  she  did  not  see  in  the  red  flush  on  Marguerite's 
face  the  indications  of  happiness  and  the  workings  of  a  girlish 
heart. 

By  the  time  the  old  Abbe  was  announced  Marguerite  had 
taken  up  her  work  again,  and  apparently  found  it  so  interest- 
ing that  she  greeted  the  uncle  and  nephew  without  raising 
her  eyes  from  it.  M.  Claes  returned  the  Abbe  de  Solis'  bow 
mechanically,  and  left  the  parlor  as  if  his  presence  were 
demanded  elsewhere.  The  venerable  Dominican  seated  him- 
self beside  Mme.  Claes  with  one  of  those  keen  glances  by 
which  he  seemed  to  read  the  depths  of  souls ;  he  had  scarcely 
seen  M.  Claes  and  his  wife  before  he  guessed  that  some  catas- 
trophe had  taken  place. 

"  Go  into  the  garden,  children,"  said  the  mother.  "  Mar- 
guerite, take  Emmanuel  to  see  your  father's  tulips." 

Marguerite,  somewhat  embarrassed,  took  Felicie's  hand  in 
hers  and  looked  towards  the  visitor,  who  reddened  and  fol- 
lowed her  out  of  the  parlor,  catching  up  little  Jean  to  keep 


108  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

himself  in  countenance.  When  all  four  of  them  were  out  in 
the  garden,  Jean  and  Felicie  scampered  off,  and  Marguerite, 
left  alone  with  young  M.  de  Solis,  went  towards  the  bed  of 
tulips  which  Le  Mulquinier  always  planted  out  in  the  same 
way,  year  after  year. 

"Are  you  fond  of  tulips?"  Marguerite  asked,  as  Em- 
manuel seemed  unwilling  to  break  the  silence. 

"They  are  magnificent,  mademoiselle;  but  a  love  of  tulips 
is  an  acquired  taste.  The  flowers  dazzle  me  ;  I  expect  that  it 
is  because  I  am  so  used  to  working  in  my  dark  little  room 
beside  my  uncle  ;  I  like  softer  colors  better." 

He  looked  at  Marquerite  as  he  uttered  these  last  words ;  but 
in  that  glance,  full  of  confused  longings,  there  was  no  sug- 
gestion that  the  quiet  face  before  him,  with  its  white  velvet 
surface  and  soft  color,  was  like  a  flower. 

"  Do  you  work  very  hard  ?"  Marguerite  asked  Emmanuel 
as  they  went  towards  a  green-painted  garden  seat.  "  You  will 
not  be  so  close  to  the  tulips  here,"  she  added  ;  "they  will 
not  be  so  tiring  to  your  eyes.  You  are  right,  the  colors  are 
dazzling  ;  they  make  one's  eyes  ache." 

"  Yes,  I  work  hard,"  the  young  man  answered  after  a  short 
pause,  spent  in  smoothing  the  gravel  on  the  path  with  his 
foot.  "  I  work  at  all  sorts  of  things.  My  uncle  intended  to 
make  a  priest  of  me " 

"  Oh  !  "   Marguerite  exclaimed  naively. 

"  I  objected  ;  I  felt  that  I  had  no  vocation.  But  it  took  a 
great  deal  of  courage  to  cross  my  uncle's  wishes.  He  is  so 
kind  and  so  very  fond  of  me.  Quite  lately  he  paid  for  a 
substitute  to  save  me  from  the  conscription,  and  I  am  only  a 
poor  orphan  nephew " 

"  Then  what  do  you  mean  to  do?  "  asked  Marguerite,  with 
a  sudden  gesture,  which  seemed  as  if  she  would  fain  take  the 
words  back  again,  for  she  added — 

"Pardon  me,  monsieur;  you  must  think  me  very  in- 
quisitive." 


THE   QUEST  OF   THE  ABSOLUTE.  109 

"  Oh  !  mademoiselle,  nobody  but  my  uncle  has  ever  asked 
me  the  question,"  said  Emmanuel,  looking  at  her  admiringly 
and  gratefully.  "I  am  to  be  a  schoolmaster.  There  is  no 
help  for  it ;  I  am  not  rich,  you  see.  If  I  can  obtain  a  head- 
mastership  in  some  school  in  Flanders,  I  shall  have  enough  to 
live  upon.  I  shall  marry  some  woman  who  will  be  content 
with  very  little,  and  whom  I  shall  love.  That  is  the  sort  of 
life  that  is  in  prospect  for  me.  Perhaps  that  is  why  I  would 
rather  have  a  moon-daisy  from  the  fields  about  Orchies,  a  flower 
that  no  one  looks  at,  than  these  glowing  tulips,  all  purple  and 
golden  and  emerald  and  sapphire.  The  tulips  seem  to  me  a 
sort  of  symbol  of  a  brilliant  and  luxurious  life,  just  as  the 
moon-daisy  is  like  a  quiet,  old-fashioned  life,  a  poor  school- 
master's life  such  as  mine  will  be." 

"  Until  now,  I  have  always  called  the  moon-daisies  mar- 
guerites," said  she. 

Emmanuel  de  Solis  flushed  up  to  the  eyes ;  he  racked  his 
brains  for  an  answer,  and  tormented  the  gravel  with  his  boots. 
So  many  things  occurred  to  him,  and  were  rejected  as  silly, 
that  the  pause  grew  embarrassing,  and  he  was  forced  to  say 

something.  "I  did  not  venture  to  pronounce  your  name ' ' 

he  said  at  last,  and  got  no  further. 

"A  schoolmaster  !  "  she  went  on. 

"  Oh  !  I  shall  be  a  schoolmaster  for  the  sake  of  a  secure  posi- 
tion, mademoiselle,  but  I  want  to  do  other  things  as  well, 

something  great  that  wants  doing. 1  should  like  some  bit 

of  historical  research  best." 

"Oh!" 

That  "Oh,"  which  seemed  to  cover  the  speaker's  private 
reflections,  added  to  the  young  man's  embarrassment.  He 
began  to  laugh  foolishly,  and  said — 

"  You  are  making  me  talk  about  my  own  affairs,  made- 
moiselle, when  I  should  speak  to  you  of  yourself." 

"I  think  my  mother  and  your  uncle  must  have  finished 
their  talk,"  she  said,  looking  at  the  parlor  windows. 


110  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

"  Your  mother  looked  very  much  altered,  I  thought." 

"  She  is  in  trouble,  and  says  nothing  to  us  about  her 
troubles,  and  we  can  only  feel  sorry  for  her,  that  is  all  we 
can  do." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Mme.  Claes  had  just  consulted  the 
Abbe  de  Solis  on  a  difficult  case  of  conscience,  which  he  alone 
could  resolve.  Ruin  was  clearly  impending;  and  now  that 
the  pictures  were  about  to  be  sold,  she  thought  of  keeping 
back  a  large  part  of  the  purchase  money  as  a  sort  of  reserve 
fund  to  secure  her  children  against  want.  Balthazar  took  so 
little  heed  of  his  affairs  that  it  would  be  easy  to  do  this  with- 
out his  knowledge.  After  mature  deliberation,  and  after 
taking  all  the  facts  of  the  case  into  consideration,  the  old 
Dominican  had  given  his  sanction  to  this  prudent  course. 
The  conduct  of  the  sale  devolved  on  him,  and  the  whole 
matter  was  arranged  privately  for  fear  of  injuring  M.  Claes' 
credit. 

The  old  Abb6  sent  his  nephew  to  Amsterdam  duly  armed 
with  letters  of  introduction ;  and  the  young  man,  delighted  to 
have  this  opportunity  of  doing  a  service  to  the  house  of  Claes, 
succeeded  in  selling  the  collection  in  the  picture  gallery  to  the 
celebrated  bankers,  Happe  and  Duncker,  ostensibly  for  the 
sum  of  eighty  thousand  Dutch  ducats,  but  fifteen  thousand 
ducats  were  to  be  paid  secretly  over  and  above  this  amount  to 
Mme.  Claes.  The  pictures  were  so  well  known  that  a  single 
letter  from  Balthazar  accepting  the  proposals  made  by  Mes- 
sieurs Happe  and  Duncker  completed  the  bargain.  Emmanuel 
de  Solis  was  commissioned  to  receive  the  price  of  the  pictures, 
which  he  remitted  by  other  than  the  ordinary  channels,  so 
that  Douai  might  know  nothing  of  the  transaction  which  had 
just  taken  place. 

By  the  end  of  September,  Balthazar  had  paid  his  debts, 
cleared  his  liabilities,  and  was  at  work  once  more ;  but  the 
glory  of  the  Maison  Claes  had  departed.  Yet  Balthazar  was 
so  blinded  by  his  passion  that  he  seemed  to  feel  no  regrets  ; 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  Ill 

he  was  so  confident  that  he  could  retrieve  all  his  losses  in  a 
little  while,  that  he  had  reserved  the  right  to  repurchase  his 
pictures.  And  as  for  Josephine,  in  her  eyes  the  paintings 
were  as  nothing  compared  with  the  happiness  of  her  husband 
and  children ;  she  filled  the  blank  spaces  in  the  gallery  with 
pictures  from  the  state  apartments,  and  rearranged  the  furni- 
ture in  the  rooms  where  the  family  sat,  so  that  the  empty 
spaces  on  the  walls  should  not  be  noticed. 

Balthazar  had  about  two  hundred  thousand  francs  with 
which  to  begin  his  experiments  afresh,  his  debts  were  all  paid, 
and  M.  de  Solis  and  his  nephew  became  trustees  for  Mme. 
Claes'  reserve  fund,  which  was  swelled  somewhat  further,  for 
gold  was  at  a  premium  in  those  days  of  European  wars,  and 
the  Abbe  de  Solis  sold  the  ducats,  receiving  for  them  sixty-six 
thousand  francs  in  crowns,  which  were  stored  away  in  the 
Abbe's  cellar. 

For  eight  months  Mme.  Claes  had  the  sad  satisfaction  of 
seeing  her  husband  entirely  engrossed  in  his  work ;  but  she 
never  recovered  from  the  shock  received  that  August  after- 
noon, and  fellinto  a  decline,  from  which  there  was  no  recov- 
ery. Science  had  Balthazar  in  its  clutches ;  the  disasters  that 
befell  the  armies  of  France,  the  first  fall  of  Napoleon,  the 
return  of  the  exiled  Bourbons,  all  the  events  of  those  eventful 
years  could  not  draw  his  attention  from  his  studies ;  he  was  no 
longer  a  citizen,  as  he  had  ceased  to  be  a  husband  and  a  father. 
He  was  a  chemist. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  year  1814  the  wasting  disease  that 
had  attacked  Mme.  Claes  had  made  such  progress  that  she 
could  not  leave  her  bed.  She  would  not  drag  out  this 
slow  death  in  her  own  room  where  she  had  lived  in  her  happier 
days,  it  was  too  full  of  memories,  and  she  could  not  help 
drawing  comparisons  between  the  present  and  the  past,  which 
overwhelmed  her  with  despair,  so  she  lay  downstairs  in  the 
parlor.  The  doctors  had  humored  the  desire  of  her  heart, 
pronouncing  the  room  to  be  more  airy,  cheerful,  and  conven- 


112  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

ient  than  her  own  apartment ;  her  bed  had  been  placed 
between  the  chimney-piece  and  the  window,  so  that  she  could 
look  out  into  the  garden.  The  last  days  of  her  life  were  spent 
in  perfecting  her  work  on  earth,  implanting  in  her  daughters' 
hearts  the  passionate  devotion  of  her  own.  She  could  no 
longer  show  her  love  for  her  husband,  but  she  was  free  to 
lavish  her  affection  on  her  daughters,  and  the  charm  of  this 
life  of  close  communion  between  mother  and  daughters  was 
all  the  sweeter  because  it  had  begun  so  late. 

The  little  scruples  of  a  too  sensitive  affection  weighed  upon 
her,  as  upon  all  generous  natures,  like  remorse.  Her  children 
had  not  always  known,  she  thought,  the  love  which  was  their 
due,  and  she  tried  to  atone  for  all  these  imaginary  wrongs ; 
they  felt  her  exquisite  tenderness  in  her  constant  thought  and 
care  for  them.  She  would  fain  have  sheltered  them  in  her 
heart,  and  nestled  them  beneath  her  failing  wings,  given  them 
in  one  day  the  love  that  they  should  have  had  in  those  days 
when  she  had  neglected  them.  Her  soul  was  full  of  remorse, 
which  gave  a  fervent  warmth  to  her  words  and  caresses ;  her 
eyes  dwelt  fondly  on  her  children  before  the  kind  tones  of 
her  voice  thrilled  their  hearts ;  her  hand  seemed  always  to  be 
stretched  out  in  benediction. 

The  hospitality  of  the  Maison  Claes  had  come  to  an  end 
after  the  first  splendid  effort ;  Balthazar  never  gave  another 
ball  on  the  anniversary  of  his  marriage,  and  saw  no  visitors ; 
the  house  was  quieter  than  ever,  but  this  occasioned  no  sur- 
prise in  Douai,  for  Mme.  Claes'  illness  was  a  sufficient  reason 
in  itself  for  the  change.  The  debts  had  been  paid,  and  this 
had  put  a  stop  to  gossip,  and  during  the  foreign  occupation 
of  Flanders  and  the  war  of  the  Hundred  Days  the  chemist 
was  completely  forgotten.  For  two  years  Douai  was  almost 
in  a  state  of  siege,  occupied  in  turn  by  French  troops  or 
foreign  soldiers ;  it  became  a  city  of  refuge  for  all  nationali- 
ties and  for  peasants  obliged  to  fly  from  the  open  country ; 
people  lived  in  fear  for  their  property,  and  even  in  terror  of 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  113 

their  lives,  and  in  such  a  time  of  calamity  and  anxiety  no  one 
had  a  thought  to  spare  for  others.  The  Abbe  de  Solis  and 
his  nephew,  and  the  two  Pierquins,  were  Mme.  Claes'  only 
visitors. 

The  winter  of  1814-1815  was  a  long  and  most  painful 
agony  for  her.  Her  husband  seldom  came  to  see  her.  He 
sat  with  her  after  dinner,  it  is  true,  for  a  few  hours;  but  she 
had  not  sufficient  strength  now  to  keep  up  a  long  conversa- 
tion ;  and  when  he  had  repeated  two  or  three  remarks,  which 
he  never  varied,  he  sat  beside  her  without  speaking,  and  the 
dismal  silence  in  the  parlor  was  unbroken.  The  only  breaks 
in  this  dreary  monotony  were  the  evenings  when  the  Abbe  de 
Solis  and  his  nephew  came  to  the  Maison  Claes.  The  old 
Abbe  played  backgammon  with  Balthazar ;  while  Marguerite, 
seated  at  her  mother's  bedside,  talked  with  Emmanuel.  Mme. 
Claes  smiled  on  their  innocent  happiness,  and  would  not  let 
them  see  how  sweet  and  how  painful  it  was  to  her  aching  heart 
to  feel  the  fresh  breath  of  the  dawn  of  love  in  the  words  that 
they  let  fall.  The  tones  of  the  two  young  voices,  so  full  of 
charm  for  the  lovers,  almost  broke  her  heart ;  she  surprised  a 
glance  of  comprehension  exchanged  between  them,  and  mem- 
ories of  her  youth  and  the  happy  past  brought  her  thoughts 
to  the  present,  and  she  felt  all  its  bitterness  to  the  full  as  she 
lay  there  like  one  already  dead.  Emmanuel  and  Marguerite 
instinctively  divined  her  sufferings,  and  delicacy  of  feeling  led 
them  to  check  the  sweet  playfulness  of  love  lest  it  should  add 
to  her  pain. 

No  one  as  yet  seems  to  have  discovered  that  our  sentiments 
have  a  life  of  their  own,  and  take  their  character  from  the 
circumstances  which  gave  them  birth  ;  the  places  in  which  they 
gathered  strength,  the  thoughts  that  filled  our  minds  at  the 
time,  influence  their  development  and  leave  their  impress  upon 
them.  There  is  a  love  like  that  of  Mme.  Claes,  passionate  in 
its  beginnings,  and  passionate  to  the  end  ;  there  is  a  love,  on 
which  everything  else  smiles  from  the  outset,  that  never  loses 


114  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

the  glad  freshness  of  its  morning,  and  reaps  its  harvest  of 
happiness  amid  laughter  and  rejoicing ;  but  there  is  also  a  love 
early  enveloped  in  sadness  or  surrounded  by  misfortune,  its 
pleasures  are  painful  and  dearly-bought,  snatched  amid  fears, 
embittered  by  remorse,  or  clogged  with  despair.  This  love  in 
the  depths  of  their  hearts,  which  neither  Marguerite  nor 
Emmanuel  recognized  as  yet,  this  feeling  that  had  been 
awakened  in  a  moment  of  stillness  and  silence  beneath  the 
dusky  roof  of  the  picture  gallery,  in  the  presence  of  the  austere 
old  Abbe,  was  tinged  with  something  of  the  sober  twilight 
hues  of  its  earliest  surroundings ;  it  was  grave  and  reticent, 
but  full  of  subtle  shades  of  sweetness,  and  furtive  joys  over 
which  they  lingered  in  secret  as  over  stolen  grapes  snatched 
in  some  vineyard  nook. 

Beside  this  bed  of  pain  they  never  dared  to  give  expression 
to  their  thoughts,  and  all  unconsciously  their  emotion  gathered 
strength  because  it  was  repressed  in  the  depths  of  their  hearts, 
and  only  revealed  itself  in  their  care  for  the  invalid.  It 
seemed  to  Emmanuel  that  this  drew  them  more  closely  to- 
gether, and  that  he  was  already  a  son  to  Marguerite's  mother; 
though  instead  of  the  sweet  language  of  lovers  he  received 
only  sad,  grateful  thanks  from  Marguerite.  Their  sighs  of 
happiness  as  they  exchanged  glances  were  scarcely  distinguish- 
able from  the  sighs  drawn  from  them  by  the  sight  of  the 
mother's  suffering ;  their  brief  moments  of  felicity,  implied 
confessions,  and  unspoken  promises,  moments  when  their 
hearts  went  out  towards  each  other,  stood  out,  like  the  "  Alle- 
gories" painted  by  Raphael,  against  a  dark  background. 
Each  felt  a  trust  and  confidence  in  the  other  though  no  words 
had  been  said;  they  felt  that  the  sun  still  shone,  though 
heavy  dark  clouds  had  gathered  overhead,  and  they  knew  not 
what  wind  would  scatter  them ;  the  future  seemed  doubtful, 
perhaps  trouble  would  dog  them  all  their  lives,  so  they  sat 
timidly  among  the  gloomy  shadows  without  daring  to  ask, 
"  Shall  we  finish  the  day  together?  " 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  115 

Yet,  beneath  the  tenderness  that  Mme.  Claes  showed  for 
her  children,  there  lay  concealed  other  thoughts  to  which  she 
nobly  refused  to  listen.  Her  children  never  caused  her  appre- 
hensions and  terror ;  they  were  her  comfort,  but  they  were  not 
her  life  ;  she  lived  for  them,  but  she  was  dying  for  Balthazar. 
Painful  though  it  might  be  for  her  to  have  her  husband  by  her 
side,  absent  in  thought  for  whole  hours,  to  receive  an  unseeing 
glance  from  time  to  time,  yet  she  was  unconscious  of  her  suf- 
fering so  long  as  he  was  with  her.  Balthazar's  indifference  to 
his  dying  wife  would  have  seemed  unpardonable  to  any  stranger 
who  chanced  to  witness  it,  but  Mme.  Claes  and  her  daughters 
were  so  used  to  it,  and  understood  him  so  well,  that  they  for- 
gave him. 

If  Mine.  Claes  had  some  dangerous  seizure  in  the  course  of 
the  day,  if  she  felt  worse  or  seemed  to  be  at  the  point  of  death, 
Claes  was  the  one  person  in  the  house,  or  indeed  in  the  whole 
town,  who  did  not  know  that  the  wife  who  had  once  been  so 
passionately  loved  was  in  danger.  Le  Mulquinier  knew  it,  but 
Felicie  and  Marguerite  had  been  forbidden  by  their  mother 
to  speak  to  Claes  of  her  illness. 

Mme.  Claes  was  happy  when  she  heard  his  footsteps  in  the 
picture  gallery  as  he  crossed  it  on  his  way  to  dinner ;  she  was 
about  to  see  him,  she  summoned  all  her  strength  to  meet  the 
coming  joy.  The  color  rushed  to  the  pale  face  of  the  dying 
woman  as  he  entered,  she  almost  looked  as  she  had  been  wont 
to  do  in  health  ;  the  man  of  science  came  to  her  bedside  and 
took  her  hand  in  his,  and  never  saw  her  as  she  really  was :  for 
him  alone  she  was  always  well.  In  reply  to  his,  "  How  are 
you  to-day,  dear  wife  ?  "  she  would  answer,  "  Better,  dear  !  " 
and  he  in  his  preoccupied  mood  readily  believed  her  when  she 
spoke  of  getting  up  again,  of  being  quite  well  to-morrow.  He 
was  so  abstracted  that  he  never  saw  that  there  was  anything 
seriously  wrong  with  his  wife,  and  thought  the  disease  of  which 
she  was  dying  was  some  passing  ailment.  Every  one  else  knew 
that  she  was  dying,  but  for  him  she  was  full  of  life. 


116  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

This  year  saw  the  husband  and  wife  completely  severed. 
Claes  slept  in  a  distant  room,  lived  in  his  laboratory  or  study 
from  morning  to  night,  and  never  saw  Pepita  save  in  the 
presence  of  his  daughters  and  the  few  friends  of  the  house 
who  came  to  visit  her.  He  had  learned  to  do  without  her. 
The  two  who  had  once  shared  every  thought  drifted  farther 
and  farther  apart ;  the  moments  of  close  communion,  of  rap- 
ture, of  expansion,  which  are  the  life  of  the  heart,  came  sel- 
dom and  more  seldom,  and  the  rare  moments  of  bliss  ceased 
altogether.  If  physical  suffering  had  not  come  to  her  aid  and 
filled  up  the  empty  days,  the  anguish  of  her  isolation  might 
have  killed  Josephine,  but  she  was  dying.  She  was  sometimes 
in  such  terrible  pain  that  she  was  glad  that  he,  whom  she 
never  ceased  to  love,  was  not  there  to  be  a  witness  of  her  suf- 
ferings. And  for  the  part  of  the  evening  that  Balthazar  spent 
with  her,  she  lay  watching  him,  feeling  that  he  was  happy  after 
his  fashion,  and  this  happiness  which  she  had  procured  for 
him  she  made  her  own.  This  meagre  satisfaction  must  suffice 
for  her  now;  she  no  longer  asked  if  she  was  beloved;  she 
strove  to  believe  it,  and  went  softly,  fearing  that  this  thin 
sheet  of  ice  should  give  way  and  her  heart  and  all  her  hopes 
should  be  drowned  in  the  dark  depths  that  yawned  beneath. 

Nothing  ever  happened  to  break  the  monotony  of  the  day ; 
the  disease  that  wasted  Mme.  Claes'  strength  perhaps  con- 
tributed to  the  apparent  peace,  for  her  affection  could  only 
play  a  passive  part,  and  weakness  made  it  easier  to  wait  and 
endure  patiently.  The  year  1816  opened  under  these  gloomy 
conditions. 

In  the  last  days  of  February  came  the  sudden  shock  which 
brought  the  angelic  woman,  who,  so  the  Abbe  de  Solis  said, 
was  almost  sinless,  to  the  grave.  The  blow  came  from 
Pierquin. 

He  watched  for  an  opportunity  when  the  two  girls  were 
sufficiently  far  away  to  whisper  in  her  ear,  "  Madame,  M. 
Claes  has  commissioned  me  to  borrow  three  hundred  thousand 


THE   QUEST  OF    THE  ABSOLUTE.  117 

francs  on  his  estates  ;  you  must  take  measures  to  secure  your 
children's  property." 

Mme.  Claes  clasped  her  hands  and  raised  her  eyes.  She 
thanked  the  notary  by  a  kindly  inclination  of  the  head  and 
by  a  sad  smile,  which  touched  Pierquin.  The  words  were  like 
the  stab  of  a  knife  ;  they  killed  Pepita.  The  rest  of  the  day 
she  spent  with  the  painful  thoughts  that  swelled  her  heart ; 
she  felt  like  some  traveler  who  has  walked  steadily  and  bravely 
along  the  dizzy  brink  of  a  precipice,  till  some  pebble  slips 
from  under  his  feet,  and,  losing  his  balance,  he  at  last  falls 
headlong  into  the  depths.  As  soon  as  the  notary  left  the 
house,  Mme.  Claes  asked  Marguerite  for  writing  materials, 
and  summoned  all  her  strength  to  write  her  final  directions 
and  requests.  Many  times  she  stopped  and  looked  up  at  Mar- 
guerite ;  the  time  for  making  her  a  confidant  had  come. 

Marguerite  had  taken  her  mother's  place  as  head  of  the 
household  during  this  illness,  and  had  more  than  realized  the 
dying  woman's  hopes  of  her.  Mme.  Claes  feared  no  longer 
for  the  family  she  was  leaving  under  the  care  of  this  strong 
and  loving  guardian  angel ;  she  should  still  live  on  in  Mar- 
guerite. Both  the  women  doubtless  felt  that  there  were  sad 
secrets  to  be  told  ;  whenever  the  mother  glanced  at  Marguerite, 
the  girl  looked  up  at  once,  and  the  eyes  of  both  were  full  of 
tears.  Several  times,  as  Mme.  Claes  laid  down  the  pen, 
Marguerite  had  begun,  "Mother?"  and  had  broken  off 
because  her  voice  failed  her ;  and  her  mother,  absorbed  in  her 
last  thoughts,  did  not  hear  her  entreaty.  At  last  the  letter 
was  finished ;  and  Marguerite,  who  had  held  the  taper  while 
it  was  sealed,  turned  away  to  avoid  seeing  the  direction. 

"  You  can  read  it,  my  child  !  "  the  dying  woman  said,  with 
a  heartrending  tone  in  her  voice. 

Marguerite  watched  her  mother's  fingers  as  she  wrote, 
"  For  my  daughter  Marguerite." 

"  I  will  rest  now,"  she  added,  putting  the  letter  under  her 
pillow,  "  and  then  we  will  talk." 


118  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

She  fell  back  on  her  pillows  as  if  exhausted  by  the  effort 
she  had  just  made,  and  slept  for  several  hours.  When  she 
awoke,  all  her  children  were  kneeling  around  her  in  fervent 
prayer.  It  was  a  Thursday  ;  Gabriel  and  Jean  had  just  come 
home  from  school ;  Emmanuel  de  Solis — who  for  the  past  six 
months  had  been  one  of  the  masters  there,  teaching  history 
and  philosophy — had  come  with  them. 

"  Dear  children,  we  must  bid  each  other  farewell,"  she 

cried.  "  You  are  all  with  me  to  the  last,  and  he "  She 

did  not  finish  the  sentence. 

"  M.  Emmanuel,"  said  Marguerite,  who  saw  the  deathly 
pallor  of  her  mother's  face,  "  will  you  tell  our  father  that 
mamma  is  much  worse  ?  " 

Young  de  Solis  went  up  to  the  laboratory,  and  through  Le 
Mulquinier's  good  offices  saw  Balthazar  for  a  moment ;  the 
chemist  heard  the  young  man's  urgent  entreaties,  and  an- 
swered, "  I  am  coming." 

"My  friend,"  Mme.  Claes  said  when  Emmanuel  returned 
from  this  errand,  "  will  you  take  my  two  boys  away,  and  ask 
your  uncle  to  come  to  me  ?  I  must  take  the  last  sacraments 
I  think,  and  I  should  like  to  receive  them  from  his  hand." 

When  she  was  left  once  more  with  the  two  girls  she  made  a 
sign  which  Marguerite  understood.  Felicie  was  sent  away, 
and  the  mother  and  daughter  were  alone. 

"I  had  something  to  say  to  you,  mamma  dear,"  said 
Marguerite,  who  did  not  realize  how  ill  her  mother  was,  and 
knew  nothing  of  the  shock  which  Pierquin's  ill-advised  revela- 
tion had  given  her.  "  I  have  been  without  money  for  house- 
keeping expenses  these  ten  days  past,  and  the  servants'  wages 
have  not  been  paid  for  six  months.  I  have  twice  made  up  my 
mind  to  ask  papa  for  the  money,  and  both  times  my  courage 
failed.  You  do  not  know  what  has  happened.  All  the  wine 
in  the  cellar  and  the  pictures  in  the  gallery  have  been  sold 


"  He  has  not  said  a  word  about  it  to  me  !  "  cried  Mme. 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  119 

Claes.  "  God  is  taking  me  to  Himself  in  time,  but,  oh  !  my 
poor  children,  what  will  become  of  you?  " 

She  spent  a  few  moments  in  fervent  prayer;  remorse  seemed 
to  glow  in  her  eyes. 

"Marguerite,"  she  went  on,  drawing  the  sealed  envelope 
from  its  hiding-place,  "  if,  when  I  am  dead,  you  should  ever  be 
brought  to  misery,  that  is  to  say,  if  you  should  want  bread, 
then  open  this  letter  and  read  it.  Marguerite  dear,  love  your 
father,  but  take  care  of  your  sister  and  brothers.  In  a  few 
days,  perhaps  in  a  few  hours,  you  will  be  the  head  of  the 
house  !  Be  very  careful ;  and,  Marguerite,  it  may  very  likely 
happen  that  you  will  have  to  oppose  your  father's  wishes;  for 
he  has  spent  large  sums  already  on  this  effort  to  learn  a  secret 
which,  if  discovered,  will  make  him  famous  and  bring  him 
enormous  wealth,  and  he  is  sure  to  want  money  again ;  per- 
haps he  will  ask  you  for  money  ;  and  then,  while  you  must 
remember  that  you  are  the  sole  guardian  of  those  whose  in- 
terests are  committed  to  your  care,  you  must  never  forget 
what  is  due  to  your  father,  to  a  great  man  who  is  spending 
himself,  his  wealth,  and  his  whole  life  in  a  task  which  will 
make  his  family  illustrious,  and  you  must  give  him  all  a 
daughter's  tenderness.  He  would  never  wrong  his  children 
intentionally ;  he  has  such  a  noble  heart ;  he  is  so  good,  so 
full  of  love  for  you ;  you,  who  are  left,  will  see  him  a  kind 
and  affectionate  father  once  more.  These  things  must  be 
said,  Marguerite,  now  that  I  am  on  the  brink  of  the  grave. 
Promise  me,  my  child,  that  you  will  fill  my  place,  if  you 
would  make  it  easier  for  me  to  die ;  promise  that  you  will 
never  add  to  your  father's  troubles  by  a  single  reproach,  that 
you  will  never  judge  him  harshly  !  In  short,  you  must  be  a 
gentle  and  indulgent  mediator  until  your  task  is  finished,  until 
your  father  once  more  takes  his  place  as  head  of  the  family." 

"I  understand,  dearest  mother,"  said  Marguerite,  as  she 
kissed  the  dying  woman's  red  eyelids.  "I  will  do  as  you 
wish." 


120  THE    QUEST  OF   THE  ABSOLUTE. 

"And  you  must  not  marry,  darling,  until  Gabriel  is  old 
enough  to  take  your  place,"  Mme.  Claes  went  on.  "  If  you 
were  married,  your  husband  very  likely  would  not  share  your 
feelings  ;  he  might  make  trouble  in  the  family,  and  harass 
your  father." 

Marguerite  looked  into  her  mother's  eyes  and  said,  "  Have 
you  no  other  counsels  to  give  me  with  regard  to  my  marriage  ?" 

"Do  you  hesitate,  dear  child?"  asked  the  dying  mother 
in  alarm. 

"  No,"  she  answered ;  "  I  promise  to  obey  you." 

' '  Poor  child  ! ' '  said  her  mother,  as  she  shed  hot  tears, 
"  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  sacrifice  myself  for  you,  and 
now  I  am  asking  you  to  sacrifice  yourself  for  them  all.  Hap- 
piness makes  us  selfish.  Yes,  Marguerite,  I  was  weak,  because 
I  was  happy.  You  must  be  strong ;  you  must  think  for  the 
rest,  and  so  act  that  your  brothers  and  your  sister  shall  never 
reproach  me.  Love  your  father,  and  do  not  thwart  him  more 
than  you  can  help." 

"  Her  head  fell  back  on  the  pillow,  her  strength  had  failed 
her,  she  could  not  say  another  word.  The  struggle  between 
the  wife  and  the  mother  had  exhausted  her.  A  few  moments 
later  the  Abbe  de  Solis  and  his  assistants  entered  the  parlor, 
and  the  servants  crowded  in.  The  Abbe's  presence  recalled 
Mme.  Claes  to  herself,  and  as  the  rite  began  she  looked  about 
her,  seeking  Balthazar  among  the  faces  about  her  bed. 

"Where  is  the  master?"  she  asked  in  a  piteous  tone, 
which  sent  a  thrill  of  horror  through  those  assembled  ;  her 
whole  life  and  death  seemed  to  be  summed  up  in  that  cry. 
Martha  hurried  from  the  room,  and,  old  as  she  was,  ran  up  to 
the  laboratory,  and  knocked  loudly  at  the  door. 

"  Monsieur,"  she  cried,  in  angry  indignation,  "  madame  is 
dying !  They  are  going  to  administer  the  sacraments,  and 
are  waiting  for  you." 

"I  am  coming  down  directly,"  said  Balthazar. 

Le  Mulquinier  appeared  a  moment  later,  and  said  that  his 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  121 

master  was  about  to  follow.  Mme.  Claes  never  took  her  eyes 
from  the  door  all  through  the  ceremony,  but  it  was  over  before 
Balthazar  came.  The  Abbe  de  Solis  and  the  children  were 
standing  beside  the  bed,  a  flush  came  over  the  dying  woman's 
face  at  the  sight  of  her  husband,  the  tears  rolled  down  her 
cheeks. 

" Were  you  on  the  point  of  decomposing  nitrogen?'1  she 
asked  with  angelic  sweetness,  that  sent  a  thrill  through  those 
about  her. 

"  I  have  done  it !  "  he  cried  triumphantly.  "Nitrogen  is 
partly  composed  of  oxygen,  partly  of  some  imponderable  sub- 
stance which  to  all  appearance  is  the  essential  principle 
of " 

He  suddenly  stopped,  interrupted  by  a  murmur  of  horror, 
which  brought  him  to  his  senses. 

"  What  was  it  that  they  told  me  ?  "  he  began.  "  Are  you 
really  worse  ? What  has  happened  ?  ' ' 

"  This,"  said  the  Abbe  de  Solis  indignantly  in  Balthazar's 
ear,  "this — your  wife  is  dying,  and  you  have  killed  her!" 
and  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  the  Abbe  took  Emmanuel's 
arm  and  left  the  room,  the  children  went  with  him  across  the 
courtyard.  Balthazar  stood  for  a  while  as  if  thunderstruck ; 
he  gazed  at  his  wife  with  tears  in  his  eyes. 

"You  are  dying,  and  I  have  killed  you?"  he  cried. 
"  What  does  he  mean?  " 

"  Dear,"  she  answered,  "  your  love  was  my  life,  and  when 
all  unconsciously  you  ceased  to  love  me,  my  life  ceased  too." 

The  children  had  come  back  again  ;  Claes  sent  them  away, 
and  sat  down  by  his  wife's  pillow.  "  Have  I  ever  ceased  to 
love  you  for  one  single  moment?"  he  asked,  taking  her 
hand,  and  pressing  it  to  his  lips. 

"  I  have  no  reproaches  to  make,  dearest.  You  have  made 
me  very  happy,  too  happy  indeed ;  for  the  contrast  between 
the  early  days  of  our  marriage,  which  were  so  full  of  joy,  and 
these  last  years,  when  you  have  no  longer  been  yourself,  and 


122  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

the  days  have  been  so  empty,  has  been  more  than  I  could 
bear.  Our  inner  life,  like  our  physical  life,  has  its  vital 
springs.  For  the  past  six  years  you  have  been  dead  to  love, 
to  your  family,  to  all  that  makes  the  happiness  of  life.  I  am 
not  thinking  of  the  joy  and  bliss  which  are  the  appanage  of 
youth,  and  must  cease  with  youth,  but  which  leaves  behind 
them  the  fruits  on  which  the  soul  lives  afterwards,  an 
unbounded  confidence  and  sweet  established  uses ;  you  have 
deprived  me  of  all  these  solaces  of  the  after-time.  Ah  ! 
well,  it  is  time  for  me  to  go  ;  this  is  not  a  life  together  in  any 
sense  ;  you  have  hidden  your  thoughts  and  your  actions  from 
me.  How  can  you  have  come  to  feel  afraid  of  me  ?  Have  I 
ever  reproached  you  by  gesture,  or  word,  or  deed  !  Well, 
and  you  have  sold  your  remaining  pictures,  you  have  even 
sold  the  wine  in  the  cellar,  and  you  have  begun  to  borrow 
money  again  on  your  property,  without  a  word  of  all  this  to 
me  !  Oh,  I  am  about  to  take  leave  of  life,  and  I  am  sick  of 
life  ?  If  you  make  mistakes,  if  in  striving  after  the  impossible 
you  lose  sight  of  everything  else,  have  I  not  shown  that  there 
was  enough  love  in  my  heart  to  find  it  sweet  to  share  your 
errors,  to  be  always  by  your  side,  even,  if  need  be,  in  the 
paths  of  crime?  You  have  loved  me  only  too  well,  therein 
lies  my  glory  and  my  misery.  This  illness  began  long  ago, 
Balthazar ;  it  dates  from  the  day  when  you  first  made  it  clear 
to  me,  here  in  this  room  where  I  am  about  to  die,  that  the 
claims  of  science  were  stronger  than  family  ties.  And  now 
your  wife  is  dying,  and  you  have  run  through  your  fortune. 
Your  fortune  and  your  wife  were  your  own  to  dispose  of;  but 
when  I  shall  be  no  more,  all  my  property  will  pass  to  your 
children,  and  you  will  not  be  able  to  touch  it.  What  will  be- 
come of  you  ?  I  must  tell  you  the  truth,  and  dying  eyes  see 
far.  Now  that  I  am  going,  what  will  counter-balance  this 
accursed  passion,  which  is  as  strong  in  you  as  life  itself?  If  I 
have  been  sacrificed  to  it,  your  children  will  count  for  very 
little;  for,  in  justice  to  you,  I  must  allow  that  I  came  first 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  123 

with  you.  Two  millions  and  six  years  of  toil  have  been 
thrown  into  that  bottomless  pit,  and  you  have  discovered 
nothing " 

Claes'  white  head  sank ;  he  hid  his  face  with  his  hand. 

"You  will  discover  nothing  but  shame  for  yourself  and 
misery  for  your  children,"  continued  the  dying  woman. 
"Already  they  call  you  'Claes  the  alchemist;'  a  little  later, 
and  it  will  be  '  Claes  the  madman  !  '  As  for  me,  I  believe  in 
you ;  I  know  how  great  and  learned  you  are ;  I  know  that 
you  have  genius,  but  ordinary  minds  draw  no  distinction 
between  genius  and  madness.  Glory  is  the  sun  of  the  dead  ; 
yours  will  be  the  fate  of  all  greatness  here  on  earth ;  you  will 
know  no  happiness  as  long  as  you  live.  I  am  going  now ;  I 
have  had  no  joy  of  your  fame,  which  would  have  consoled 
me  for  my  lost  happiness ;  and  so,  to  sweeten  the  bitterness 
of  death,  let  me  feel  certain  that  my  children's  bread  is  secure, 
my  dear  Balthazar.  Nothing  can  give  me  peace  of  mind, 
not  even  your " 

"I  swear,"  said  Claes,  "to " 

"  No,  dear,  do  not  swear,  lest  you  should  fail  to  keep  your 
word,"  she  said,  interrupting  him.  "It  was  your  duty  to 
protect  us,  and  for  nearly  seven  years  you  have  failed  to  do 
so.  Science  is  your  life.  Great  men  should  have  neither 
wife  nor  children ;  they  should  tread  the  paths  of  misery 
alone ;  their  virtues  are  not  those  of  commonplace  people"; 
such  men  as  you  belong  to  the  whole  world,  not  to  one  woman 
and  a  single  family.  You  are  like  those  great  trees  which 
exhaust  the  soil  round  about  them,  and  I  am  the  poor  field- 
plant  beside  it  that  can  never  rear  its  head  so  high ;  I  must 
die  before  half  your  life  is  spent.  I  have  waited  till  my  last 
hour  to  tell  you  these  horrible  truths,  which  have  been  re- 
vealed to  me  in  anguish  and  despair.  Have  pity  on  our  chil- 
dren !  Again  and  again,  until  my  last  sigh,  I  entreat  you  to 
have  pity  on  our  children,  that  so  my  words  may  find  an  echo 
in  your  heart.  This  wife  of  yours  is  dying,  you  see.  Slowly 


124  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

and  gradually  she  has  starved  for  lack  of  affection  and  happi- 
ness. Alas  !  but  for  the  cruel  kindness  which  you  have  invol- 
untarily shown  me,  could  I  have  lived  so  long  ?  But  the  poor 
children  !  They  have  never  failed  me ;  they  have  grown 
with  the  growth  of  my  sorrows,  and  the  mother  has  outlived 
the  wife.  Have  pity,  have  pity  on  our  children  !  " 

"  Le  Mulquinier  !  "  Balthazar  thundered. 

The  old  servant  hurried  into  the  room. 

"  Go  up  and  break  everything  to  pieces,  all  the  machinery, 
and  everything  else.  Be  careful  how  you  do  it,  but  do  it 
thoroughly  !  I  will  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  science !  " 
he  said,  turning  to  his  wife. 

"It  is  too  late,"  she  said,  with  a  glance  atLe  Mulquinier. 
"  Marguerite  !"  she  moaned,  feeling  that  death  was  near. 
Marguerite  stood  in  the  doorway,  and  gave  a  sharp  cry  as  she 
met  her  mother's  eyes  and  saw  the  ghastly  pallor  of  her  face. 

"Marguerite!"  the  dying  woman  cried  again.  This  last 
word  she  ever  spoke,  uttered  with  a  wild  vehemence,  seemed 
like  a  solemn  summons  to  her  daughter  to  take  her  place. 

The  rest  of  the  family  hurried  in  alarm  to  the  bedside,  in 
time  to  see  her  die.  Mme.  Claes'  life  had  ebbed  away  in  the 
final  effort  she  had  made.  Balthazar  and  Marguerite  sat  mo- 
tionless, she  at  the  head  and  he  at  the  foot  of  the  bed.  The 
two  who  had  best  known  her  goodness  and  inexhaustible  kind- 
ness could  not  believe  that  she  was  really  dead.  The  glance 
exchanged  between  father  and  daughter  was  freighted  with 
many  thoughts;  she  judged  her  father,  and  her  father  trem- 
bled already  lest  his  daughter  should  be  the  instrument  of 
vengeance.  Memories  crowded  upon  him,  memories  of  the 
love  that  had  filled  his  life,  and  of  her  whose  last  words 
seemed  to  carry  an  almost  sacred  authority  which  had  so 
stamped  them  on  his  soul  that  it  seemed  as  if  he  must  forever 
hear  them  ringing  in  his  ears ;  but  Balthazar  mistrusted  him- 
self, he  doubted  whether  he  could  resist  the  spirit  which 
possessed  him,  he  felt  that  the  impulses  of  remorse  had  grown 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  125 

weaker  already  at  the  first  menaces  of  a  return  of  his  passion, 
and  he  was  afraid  of  himself. 

When  Mme.  Ciaes  was  gone,  every  one  felt  that  she  had 
been  the  life  and  soul  of  the  Maison  Claes,  and  that  now  that 
soul  was  no  more.  And  the  house  itself,  where  her  loss  was 
felt  to  the  full,  the  parlor  where  the  noble  Josephine  still 
seemed  to  live  was  kept  shut ;  nobody  had  the  heart  to  enter  it. 

Society  does  not  feel  called  upon  to  practice  the  virtues 
which  it  preaches  to  individuals;  it  offends  hourly  (though 
only  in  words)  against  its  own  canons ;  a  jest  prepares  the  way 
for  base  actions,  a  jest  brings  down  anything  beautiful  or  lofty 
to  the  ordinary  level.  If  a  son  sheds  too  many  tears  for  his 
father's  loss,  he  is  ridiculous;  if  too  few,  he  is  held  up  to 
execration  ;  and  then  society,  having  said  its  say,  diverts  itself 
by  weighing  the  dead,  scarcely  yet  cold,  in  its  balance. 

On  the  evening  of  the  day  when  Mme.  Claes  died  her 
friends  discussed  her  over  their  whist,  dropped  flowers  on  her 
tomb  in  a  pause  while  the  cards  were  dealing,  and  paid  their 
tribute  to  her  noble  character  while  sorting  hearts  and  spades. 

Then,  after  the  usual  lugubrious  commonplaces,  which  are 
a  kind  of  preliminary  vocal  exercise  in  social  lamentation, 
and  which  are  uttered  with  the  same  intonations  and  exactly 
the  same  amount  of  feeling  all  over  France  at  every  hour  of 
the  day,  the  whole  chorus  proceeded  to  calculate  the  amount 
of  Mme.  Claes'  property. 

Pierquin  opened  the  discussion  by  pointing  out  that  the 
lamented  lady's  husband  had  made  her  life  so  wretched  that 
death  was  a  happy  release  for  her,  and  that  it  was  a  still  greater 
blessing  for  her  children.  She  would  never  have  had  suffi- 
cient firmness  to  oppose  the  wishes  of  the  husband  whom  she 
adored,  but  now  her  fortune  had  passed  out  of  Claes'  hands. 
One  and  all  began  forthwith  to  reckon  the  probable  amount 
of  poor  Mme.  Claes'  fortune,  to  calculate  her  savings  (had 
she,  or  had  she  not,  managed  to  put  anything  by?),  and  made 
out  inventories  of  her  jewels,  and  ransacked  her  drawers  and 


126  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

her  wardrobe,  while  her  bereaved  family  were  yet  kneeling  in 
prayer  and  tears  by  her  bed  of  death. 

With  the  experienced  eye  of  a  sworn  valuer,  Pierquin  took 
in  the  situation  at  a  glance.  He  was  of  the  opinion  that 
all  Mme.  Claes'  property  might  be  "  got  together  again" 
(to  use  his  own  expression),  and  should  amount  to  something 
like  fifteen  hundred  thousand  francs.  A  large  part  of  this 
was  represented  by  the  forests  of  Waignies ;  that  property  had 
risen  enormously  in  value  in  the  last  twelve  years,  and  he  made 
a  rapid  computation  of  the  probable  value  of  the  trees  of  all 
ages  from  the  oldest  to  the  youngest.  If  that  was  not  suffi- 
cient, Balthazar  had  probably  enough  to  "cover"  the  chil- 
dren's claims.  Mile.  Claes  was,  therefore,  still,  in  his  peculiar 
phraseology,  a  girl  ''worth  four  hundred  thousand  francs." 

"But  if  she  does  not  marry  pretty  soon,"  he  added,  "  M. 
Claes  will  ruin  his  children ;  he  is  just  the  man  to  do  it.  If 
she  were  married  she  would  be  emancipated  from  her  father's 
control,  and  could  compel  him  to  sell  the  forest  of  Waignies, 
to  divide  it  among  them,  and  to  invest  the  shares  of  the 
minors  in  such  away  that  their  father  could  not  touch  them." 

Every  one  began  to  suggest  the  names  of  various  young  men 
of  the  province  who  might  aspire  to  the  hand  of  Mile.  Claes, 
but  no  one  flattered  the  notary  so  far  as  to  include  him  in  the 
list.  Pierquin  raised  so  many  objections  to  all  the  proposed 
suitors,  and  considered  none  of  them  worthy  of  Marguerite, 
that  the  company  exchanged  significant  smiles,  and  amused 
themselves  by  teasing  the  notary,  prolonging  the  process  in 
provincial  fashion.  To  Pierquin  it  seemed  that  Mme.  Claes' 
death  was  likely  to  assist  his  cause,  and  he  already  began  to 
cut  up  the  dead  for  his  own  benefit. 

"That  good  lady  yonder,"  said  he  to  himself,  as  he  went 
home  that  night,  "was  as  proud  as  a  peacock;  she  would 
never  have  allowed  me  to  marry  a  daughter  of  hers.  Eh  !  eh  ! 
but  if  I  play  my  cards  well  now,  why  should  I  not  marry  the 
girl?  Old  Claes  has  carbon  on  the  brain,  and  does  not 


THE    QUEST  OF   THE  ABSOLUTE.  127 

care  what  becomes  of  his  children ;  if  I  ask  him  for  his 
daughter,  as  soon  as  I  have  convinced  Marguerite  that  she 
must  marry  for  her  brothers'  and  sister's  sake,  he  will  be  glad 
enough  to  be  rid  of  a  girl  who  may  give  him  a  good  deal  of 
trouble." 

He  fell  asleep  in  the  midst  of  his  meditations  on  the  ad- 
vantages of  this  match,  so  attractive  to  him  on  so  many 
grounds,  a  marriage  which  bade  fair  to  secure  his  complete 
happiness.  It  would  have  been  hard  to  find  a  more  delicately 
lovely  or  a  better  bred  girl  in  the  province.  Marguerite  was 
as  modest  and  graceful  as  the  fair  flower  which  Emmanuel 
had  not  dared  to  mention  before,  lest  he  should  reveal  the 
secret  wishes  of  his  heart.  She  had  religious  principles  and 
instinctive  pride ;  his  honor  would  be  safe  in  her  keeping. 
This  marriage  would  not  only  gratify  the  vanity  which  enters 
more  or  less  into  every  man's  choice  of  a  wife,  but  the 
notary's  pride  would  be  satisfied ;  an  alliance  with  a  twice- 
ennobled  family,  which  bore  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
names  in  Flanders,  would  reflect  lustre  upon  him. 

The  very  next  morning  Pierquin  went  to  his  strong  box, 
and  thence  drew  several  notes  of  a  thousand  francs  each, 
which  he  pressed  on  Balthazar,  in  order  to  spare  his  cousin 
any  petty  pecuniary  annoyances  in  his  grief.  Balthazar  would 
no  doubt  feel  touched  by  the  delicate  attention,  and  speak  of 
it  to  his  daughter  with  an  accompanying  panegyric  on  the 
good  qualities  of  the  notary  and  his  kindness  of  heart. 
But  Balthazar  did  nothing  of  the  kind.  Neither  M.  Claes 
nor  his  daughter  saw  anything  extraordinary  in  this  action ; 
they  were  so  taken  up  with  their  grief  that  they  scarcely 
gave  a  thought  to  Pierquin.  Indeed,  Balthazar's  despair 
was  so  great  that  those  who  had  been  disposed  to  blame 
his  previous  conduct  now  relented  and  forgave  him,  not 
on  the  score  of  his  devotion  to  science,  but  because  of  the 
tardy  remorse  which  would  never  repair  the  evil.  The  world 
is  quite  satisfied  with  grimaces ;  it  takes  current  coin  without 


128  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

inquiring  too  curiously  whether  or  no  the  metal  is  base  ;  the 
sight  of  pain  has  a  certain  dramatic  interest,  it  is  a  sort  of 
enjoyment  in  consideration  of  which  the  wovld  is  prepared  to 
pardon  everything,  even  to  a  criminal.  The  world  craves 
sensation  so  eagerly  that  it  absolves  with  equal  readiness  those 
who  move  it  to  laughter  or  to  tears,  without  demanding  a 
strict  account  of  the  means  employed  in  either  case. 

Marguerite  had  just  completed  her  nineteenth  year  when  her 
father  intrusted  the  management  of  the  household  into  her 
hands ;  her  brothers  and  sister  remembered  that  their  mother 
in  the  last  moments  of  her  life  had  bidden  them  obey  their 
older  sister,  and  her  authority  was  dutifully  recognized.  Her 
delicate,  pale  face  looked  paler  still  by  contrast  with  her 
mourning,  as  its  sweet  and  patient  expression  was  enhanced 
by  sadness.  From  the  very  first  it  was  abundantly  evident 
that  she  possessed  the  womanly  courage,  the  fortitude,  and 
constant  serenity  which  ministering  angels  surely  bring  to  their 
task  of  healing,  as  they  lay  their  green  palm  branches  on 
aching  hearts.  But  although  she  had  early  understood  the 
duties  laid  upon  her,  and  had  accustomed  herself  to  hide  her 
sorrow,  it  was  none  the  less  deep  ;  and  the  serenity  of  her 
face  was  little  in  keeping  with  the  vehemence  of  her  grief. 
It  was  to  be  a  part  of  her  early  experience  to  know  the 
pain  of  repressing  the  sorrow  and  love  with  which  the  heart 
overflows ;  henceforward  the  generous  instincts  of  youth  were 
to  be  curbed  continually  at  the  bidding  of  tyrannous  necessity. 
After  her  mother's  death  she  found  herself  involved  at  once 
in  intricate  problems  where  serious  interests  were  at  stake,  and 
this  at  an  age  when  a  girl  usually  thinks  of  nothing  but  pleas- 
ure. The  hard  discipline  of  pain  has  never  been  lacking  for 
angelic  natures. 

A  love  which  has  vanity  and  greed  for  its  twin  supporters 
is  the  most  stubborn  of  passions.  Pierquin  meant  to  lose  no 
time  in  surrounding  the  heiress.  The  family  had  scarcely  put 
on  mourning  when  he  found  an  opportunity  of  speaking  to 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  129 

Marguerite;  and  began  his  operations  with  such  skill,  that 
she  might  well  have  been  deceived  by  his  tactics.  But  love 
had  brought  a  faculty  of  clairvoyance,  and  Marguerite  was 
not  to  be  deceived,  although  Pierquin's  good-nature,  the  good- 
nature of  a  notary  who  shows  his  affection  by  saving  his 
client's  money,  gave  some  appearance  of  truth  to  his  specious 
sentimentalities.  The  notary  felt  strong  in  his  hazy  relation- 
ship, in  his  acquaintance  with  family  secrets  and  business  affairs, 
in  the  esteem  and  friendship  of  Marguerite's  father.  The 
very  abstractedness  of  that  father,  who  was  not  likely  to  form 
any  projects  for  his  daughter's  settlement  in  life,  favored 
Pierquin's  cause.  He  thought  it  quite  impossible  that  Mar- 
guerite could  have  any  predilection,  and  submitted  his  suit  to 
her,  though  he  was  not  clever  enough  to  disguise  beneath  the 
flimsy  veil  of  feigned  passion  the  interested  motives  that  had 
led  him  to  scheme  for  this  alliance,  which  are  always  hateful 
to  young  souls.  In  fact,  they  had  changed  places;  the 
notary's  revelation  of  selfishness  was  artless,  and  Marguerite 
was  on  her  guard ;  for  he  thought  that  he  had  to  do  with  a 
defenceless  girl,  and  had  no  regard  for  the  privileges  of 
weakness. 

"My  dear  cousin,"  he  began,  as  he  walked  up  and  down 
the  paths  in  the  little  garden,  "  you  know  my  heart,  and  you 
know  also  how  I  shrink  from  intruding  on  your  grief  at  such 
a  moment.  I  ought  not  to  be  a  notary,  I  am  far  too  sensi- 
tive ;  I  have  such  a  feeling  heart ;  but  I  am  always  forced  to 
dwell  on  prosaic  questions  of  interest  when  I  would  fain  yield 
to  the  softer  emotions  which  make  life  happy.  It  is  very 
painful  to  me  to  be  compelled  to  speak  to  you  of  matters 
which  must  jar  upon  your  present  feelings ;  but  it  cannot  be 
helped.  You  have  constantly  been  in  my  thoughts  for  the 
past  few  days.  I  have  just  discovered,  by  a  curious  chance, 
that  your  brothers'  and  your  sister's  fortunes,  and  even  your 
own,  are  imperiled.  It  rests  with  you  to  save  your  family 
from  utter  ruin." 
9 


130  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

"  What  ought  we  to  do?  "  she  asked,  somewhat  alarmed  at 
these  remarks. 

"  You  should  marry,"  answered  Pierquin. 

"I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  she  exclaimed. 

"You  will  marry,"  returned  the  notary,  "after  mature 
reflection  on  the  critical  condition  of  your  affairs." 

"  How  can  my  marriage  save  us  from ?  " 

"  That  was  what  I  was  waiting  to  hear,  cousin,"  he  broke 
in.  "  Marriage  emancipates  a  girl." 

"  Why  should  I  be  emancipated  ?  "  asked  Marguerite. 

"  To  put  you  in  possession  of  your  rights,  my  dear  little 
cousin,"  replied  the  notary,  with  an  air  of  triumph.  "In 
that  event  you  would  take  your  share  of  your  mother's  fortune ; 
and  before  you  can  take  your  share  her  property  must  be  liqui- 
dated, and  that  would  mean  a  forced  sale  of  the  forest  of  Waig- 
nies.  That  once  settled,  all  the  capital  would  be  realized, 
and  your  father  would  be  bound,  as  guardian,  to  invest  your 
sister's  share  and  your  brothers'  in  such  a  way  that  chemistry 
could  not  touch  it." 

"And  suppose  that  none  of  these  things  happen — what 
then?"  asked  she. 

"  Why,  in  that  case,"  said  the  notary,  "  your  father  would 
administer  the  estate.  If  he  takes  it  into  his  head  again  to 
make  gold,  there  is  nothing  to  prevent  him  from  selling  the 
forest  of  Waignies,  and  leaving  you  all  as  bare  as  shorn  lambs. 
The  forest  of  Waignies  is  worth  about  fourteen  hundred  thou- 
sand francs  at  this  moment,  but  your  father  may  cut  down 
every  stick  of  timber  any  day,  and  the  thirteen  hundred  acres 
of  land  will  not  fetch  three  hundred  thousand  francs.  This 
is  almost  sure  to  happen ;  and  would  it  not  be  wiser  to  prevent 
it  by  raising  the  question  at  once,  by  emancipating  yourself 
and  demanding  your  share  of  the  inheritance  ?  You  would 
save  in  other  ways ;  your  father  would  not  fell  the  timber  as 
he  otherwise  would  do  from  time  to  time,  to  your  prejudice. 
Just  now  chemistry  is  dormant,  and  of  course  he  would  invest 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  131 

the  money  realized  by  the  sale  in  consols.  The  funds  are  at 
fifty-nine,  so  the  dear  children  would  have  very  nearly  five 
thousand  livres  of  interest  on  fifty  thousand  francs.  Besides, 
as  it  is  illegal  to  spend  a  minor's  capital,  your  brothers  and 
sister  would  find  their  fortune  doubled  by  the  time  they  came 
of  age.  Now,  on  the  other  hand,  my  word  !  There  you  have 
the  whole  position  !  Not  only  so,  but  your  father  has  dipped 
pretty  heavily  into  your  mother's  property ;  and  when  the- 
inventory  is  made  out,  we  shall  see  what  the  deficit  amounts 
to.  If  there  is  a  balance  owing,  you  can  take  a  mortgage  on 
his  lands,  and  save  something  in  that  way." 

"  For  shame  !  "  said  Marguerite ;  "  that  would  be  an  insult 
to  my  father.  It  is  not  so  long  since  my  mother's  last  words 
were  uttered,  that  I  should  have  forgotten  them  already.  My 
father  is  incapable  of  robbing  his  children,"  she  added,  with, 
bitter  tears  in  her  eyes.  "  You  do  not  know  him,  M.  Pierquin." 

"  But  suppose,  my  dear  cousin,  that  your  father  betakes 
himself  to  chemistry  again " 

"  We  should  be  ruined,  should  we  not  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  utterly  ruined  !  Believe  me,  Marguerite,"  he  said, 
taking  her  hand  and  pressing  it  to  his  heart ;  "  believe  me,  I 
should  fail  in  my  duty  if  I  did  not  urge  this  course  upon  you. 
Your  interests  alone " 

"Monsieur,"  returned  Marguerite  coolly,  as  she  withdrew 
her  hand,  "the  real  interests  of  my  family  demand  that  I 
should  not  marry.  That  was  my  mother's  decision." 

"Cousin!"  he  cried,  with  the  conviction  of  a  man  of 
business  who  sees  a  fortune  squandered,  "  you  are  rushing  on 
to  your  own  destruction  ;  you  might  as  well  fling  your  mother's 
money  into  the  water.  Well,  for  you  I  will  show  the  devo- 
tion of  the  warm  friendship  I  feel  for  you.  You  do  not  know 
how  much  I  love  you ;  I  have  adored  you  ever  since  I  saw  you 
on  the  day  of  the  last  ball  that  your  father  gave.  You  were 
charming  !  You  may  trust  the  voice  of  the  heart  when  it 
speaks  of  your  interests,  dear  Marguerite." 


132  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence ;  then  he  went  on,  "  Yes,  we 
will  summon  a  family  council,  and  emancipate  you  without 
consulting  you  about  it." 

"But  what  does  '  emancipation  '  mean?" 

"It  means  that  you  will  come  into  possession  of  your 
rights." 

"  Then,  if  I  can  be  emancipated  in  this  way,  why  would 
you  have  me  marry  ?  And  to  whom  ?  ' ' 

Pierquin  did  his  best  to  look  tenderly  at  his  cousin,  but  the 
expression  of  his  face  was  so  at  variance  with  the  hard  eyes 
that  usually  only  grew  eloquent  over  money,  that  Marguerite 
fancied  she  saw  an  interested  motive  in  this  affectionate  im- 
promptu. 

"You  should  marry  a  man  whom  you  cared  for,  in  your 
own  circle,"  he  got  out.  "  You  must  have  a  husband,  if  it 
were  only  to  manage  your  business  affairs.  You  will  be  left 
face  to  face  with  your  father ;  and  can  you  hold  your  own 
against  him,  all  by  yourself?  " 

"  Yes,  monsieur  ;  I  shall  find  means  to  defend  my  brothers 
and  sister  when  the  time  comes." 

"  Plague  take  the  girl !  "  thought  Pierquin  to  himself. 
Aloud  he  said,  "No;  you  will  never  be  able  to  stand  out 
against  him." 

"  Let  us  say  no  more  about  it,"  she  replied. 

"  Good-bye,  cousin.  I  shall  do  my  best  to  serve  you  in 
spite  of  yourself;  I  shall  show  you  how  much  I  love  you  by 
preventing  a  misfortune  which  every  one  in  the  town  fore- 
sees." 

"  Thank  you  for  the  interest  you  take  in  me,  but  I  beg  of 
you  neither  to  say  nor  do  anything  that  can  give  my  father 
the  slightest  annoyance." 

Marguerite  thoughtfully  watched  Pierquin's  retreating 
figure,  and  could  not  help  comparing  his  metallic  voice,  his 
manners,  supple  as  steel  springs,  his  glances,  which  expressed 
servility  rather  than  gentleness,  with  the  mute  revelation  of 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  13S 

Emmanuel's  feelings  towards  her,  which  impressed  her  as 
music  or  poetry  might. 

In  every  word  we  speak,  in  every  action  of  our  lives,  there 
is  a  strange  magnetic  power  which  makes  itself  felt,  and  which 
never  deceives.  The  glances,  the  tones  of  the  voice,  the 
lover's  impassioned  gestures,  can  be  imitated ;  a  clever  actor 
may  perhaps  deceive  an  inexperienced  girl,  but  to  be  success- 
ful he  should  have  the  field  to  himself.  If  there  is  another 
soul  which  vibrates  in  unison  with  every  feeling  that  stirs  her 
own,  will  she  not  soon  find  out  the  difference  between  love 
and  its  semblance?  Emmanuel  at  this  moment,  like  Mar- 
guerite herself,  was  under  the  influence  of  the  clouds  which 
had  gathered  about  them  ever  since  that  first  meeting  in  the 
picture  gallery ;  the  blue  heaven  of  love  was  hidden  from 
their  eyes.  He  had  singled  her  out  for  a  worship  which, 
from  its  very  hopelessness,  was  tender,  mysterious,  and  rev- 
erent in  its  manifestations.  Socially  he  was  too  far  beneath 
Mile.  Claes  to  hope  to  be  accepted  as  her  husband ;  he  was 
poor,  and  had  nothing  but  a  noble  name  to  offer  her.  Then 
he  had  waited  and  waited  for  some  slight  encouragement, 
which  Marguerite  would  not  give  him  beneath  the  eyes  of  a 
dying  mother. 

Equally  pure,  they  had  not  as  yet  spoken  a  word  of  love. 
Their  joys  had  been  the  secret  joys  which  unhappy  souls  must 
perforce  linger  over  alone.  The  same  hope  had,  indeed, 
thrilled  them  both,  but  they  had  trembled  and  remained 
apart ;  they  seemed  to  fear  themselves,  conscious  that  each 
belonged  too  surely  to  the  other.  Emmanuel,  therefore, 
feared  to  touch  with  his  lips  the  hand  of  the  sovereign  lady 
whom  he  had  enshrined  in  his  heart.  The  slightest  careless 
contact  would  have  brought  such  an  intoxication  of  delight 
that  his  senses  would  have  been  beyond  his  control ;  he  would 
no  longer  have  been  master  of  himself.  But  if  they  had 
never  exchanged  the  slight  yet  significant,  the  innocent  and 
solemn  tokens  of  love  which  even  the  most  timid  lovers  per- 


134  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

rait  themselves,  each  dwelt  no  less  in  the  other's  heart,  and 
both  knew  that  they  were  ready  to  make  the  greatest  sacrifices, 
the  only  pleasures  that  they  could  know.  Ever  since  Mme. 
Claes'  death  the  love  in  the  depth  of  their  hearts  had  been 
shrouded  in  mourning.  The  gloom  in  which  they  lived  had 
deepened  into  night,  and  every  ray  of  hope  was  quenched  in 
tears.  Marguerite's  reserve  had  changed  to  something  like 
coldness,  for  she  felt  bound  to  keep  the  vow  which  her  mother 
had  demanded  of  her ;  and  now  that  she  had  more  liberty 
than  formerly,  she  became  more  distant.  Emmanuel  had 
•shared  in  her  mourning,  feeling  with  his  beloved  that  the 
Jeast  word  or  wish  of  love  at  such  a  time  would  be  treason 
against  the  sovereign  laws  of  the  heart.  So  this  passionate 
love  was  hidden  away  more  closely  than  ever.  The  two  souls 
were  in  unison,  but  sorrow  had  come  between  them  and  sep- 
arated them  as  effectually  as  the  timidity  of  youth  and  respect 
for  the  sufferings  of  her  who  was  now  dead  ;  yet  there  was 
still  left  to  them  the  magnificent  language  of  the  eyes,  the 
mute  eloquence  of  self-sacrifice,  the  knowledge  that  one 
thought  always  possessed  them  both — sublime  harmonies  of 
youth,  the  first  steps  of  love  in  its  infancy. 

Emmanuel  came  every  morning  for  news  of  Claes  and  of 
Marguerite,  but  he  never  came  into  the  dining-room,  where 
the  family  now  sat,  unless  he  brought  a  letter  from  Gabriel,  or 
Balthazar  invited  him  to  enter.  Numberless  sympathetic 
thoughts  were  revealed  in  his  first  glance  at  the  girl  before 
him ;  the  reserve  that  compelled  him  to  assume  a  conven- 
tional demeanor  harassed  him ;  but  he  respected  it,  and 
shared  the  sorrow  which  caused  it,  and  all  the  dew  of  his 
tears  was  shed  on  the  heart  of  his  beloved  in  a  glance  un- 
spoiled by  any  after-thought.  He  lived  so  evidently  in  the 
present  moment,  he  set  such  high  value  on  a  happiness  which 
he  thought  so  fleeting,  that  Marguerite's  heart  sometimes  smote 
her,  and  she  told  herself  that  she  was  ungenerous  not  to  hold 
out  her  hand  and  say,  "  Let  us  be  friends." 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  135 

Pierquin  still  continued  his  importunities  with  the  obstinacy 
which  is  the  patience  of  dulness,  possessed  by  one  idea.  He 
judged  Marguerite  by  the  ordinary  rules  of  the  multitude 
when  judging  of  women.  He  imagined  that  when  the  words 
"marriage,"  "liberty,"  and  "fortune"  had  been  let  fall  in 
her  hearing  they  would  take  root  in  her  mind,  and  spring  up 
and  blossom  into  wishes  which  he  could  turn  to  his  own  ad- 
vantage, and  he  chose  to  think  that  her  coldness  was  nothing 
but  dissimulation.  But  in  spite  of  all  his  polite  attentions, 
he  was  an  awkward  actor ;  he  sometimes  forgot  his  part,  and 
assumed  the  despotic  tone  of  a  man  who  is  accustomed  to 
make  the  final  decision  in  all  serious  questions  relating  to 
family  life.  For  her  benefit  he  repeated  consoling  platitudes, 
the  professional  commonplaces  which  creep  like  snails  over  a 
sorrow,  and  leave  behind  them  a  track  of  barren  words  that 
profane  the  sanctity  of  grief.  His  tenderness  was  simply 
cajolery ;  he  dropped  his  feigned  melancholy  at  the  door  when 
he  put  on  his  overshoes  and  took  up  his  umbrella.  He  took 
advantage  of  the  privileges  which  his  long  intimacy  with  the 
Maison  Claes  had  given  him,  using  them  as  a  means  of  ingra- 
tiating himself  with  the  rest  of  the  family  to  bring  Marguerite 
to  make  a  marriage  which  was  already  talked  of  in  the  town. 
So  in  strong  contrast  to  a  true-hearted,  devoted,  and  re- 
spectful love  was  opposed  its  selfish  and  calculating  semblance. 
The  characters  of  both  men  were  in  harmony  with  their  man- 
ner. The  one  feigned  a  passion  which  he  did  not  feel,  and 
seized  on  every  least  advantage  that  gave  him  a  hold  on  Mar- 
guerite ;  the  other  concealed  his  love,  and  trembled  lest  his 
devotion  should  be  too  apparent. 

Some  time  after  her  mother's  death,  and,  as  it  happened  in 
one  day,  Marguerite  had  an  opportunity  of  comparing  the  two 
men  whom  she  was  in  a  position  to  judge,  for  she  was  com- 
pelled to  live  in  a  social  solitude  which  made  her  inaccessible 
to  any  who  might  have  thought  of  asking  her  in  marriage. 

One  day,  after  breakfast,  on  one  of  the  sunniest  mornings 


136  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

of  early  April,  Emmanuel  chanced  to  call  just  as  M.  Claes  was 
going  out.  Balthazar  found  his  own  house  almost  unendur- 
able, and  spent  a  large  part  of  the  day  in  walking  about  the 
ramparts.  Emmanuel  turned,  as  though  he  meant  to  follow 
Balthazar,  hesitated,  seemed  to  gather  up  his  courage,  glanced 
at  Marguerite,  and  stayed.  Marguerite  felt  sure  that  he 
wished  to  speak  with  her,  and  asked  him  to  go  into  the  garden ; 
she  sent  Felicie  to  sit  with  Martha,  who  was  sewing  in  the 
ante-chamber  on  an  upper  floor,  and  then  seated  herself  on  a 
garden  seat  in  full  view  of  her  sister  and  the  old  duenna. 

"  M.  Claes  is  as  much  absorbed  by  his  grief  as  he  used  to 
be  by  science,"  said  the  young  man  as  he  watched  Balthazar 
pacing  slowly  across  the  court.  "  Every  one  in  Douai  is  sorry 
for  him ;  he  goes  about  like  a  man  who  has  not  got  his  wits 
about  him ;  he  suddenly  stops  short  without  a  reason  and  gazes 
about  him  and  sees  nothing " 

"Every  one  expresses  sorrow  in  a  different  way,"  said 
Marguerite,  keeping  back  the  tears.  "What  did  you  wish  to 
say  to  me? "  she  added,  with  cold  dignity,  after  a  pause. 

"Mademoiselle,"  Emmanuel  replied  in  an  unsteady  voice, 
"I  scarcely  know  if  I  have  a  right  to  speak  to  you  as  I  am 
about  to  do.  Please  think  only  of  my  desire  to  serve  you, 
and  believe  that  a  schoolmaster  may  be  so  much  interested  in 
his  pupils  as  to  feel  anxious  about  their  future.  Your  brother 
Gabriel  is  over  fifteen  now;  he  is  in  the  second  class;  it  is 
surely  time  to  think  about  his  probable  career,  and  to  arrange 
his  course  of  study  accordingly.  The  decision  rests  of  course 
with  your  father,  but  if  he  gives  it  no  thought,  it  may  be  a 
serious  matter  for  Gabriel.  And  yet  it  would  be  a  mortifica- 
tion to  your  father,  would  it  not,  if  you  pointed  out  to  him 
that  he  was  neglecting  his  son  ?  So,  as  things  are,  could  you 
not  yourself  consult  Gabriel  as  to  his  inclinations,  and  help 
him  to  choose  a  course  of  study,  so  that  if  your  father  at  a 
later  day  should  wish  him  to  enter  the  civil  service  or  to  make 
a  soldier  of  him,  Gabriel  will  be  prepared  for  his  post  by  a 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  137 

special  training  ?  I  am  sure  that  neither  you  nor  M.  Claes 
would  wish  to  bring  up  Gabriel  in  idleness " 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  said  Marguerite.  "  Thank  you,  M.  Emmanuel, 
you  are  quite  right.  When  our  mother  had  us  taught  how  to 
make  lace,  and  took  such  pains  with  our  drawing,  sewing, 
music,  and  embroidery,  she  often  said  that  we  could  not  tell  what 
might  happen,  and  that  we  must  be  prepared  for  everything. 
Gabriel  ought  to  have  resources  within  himself,  so  he  must 
have  a  thorough  education.  But  what  is  the  best  career  for  a 
man  to  choose?" 

Emmanuel  trembled  with  happiness.  "Mademoiselle,"  he 
said,  "  Gabriel  is  at  the  head  of  his  class  in  mathematics;  if 
he  were  to  enter  the  Ecole  Polytechnique,  I  feel  sure  that  he 
would  acquire  practical  knowledge  there  which  would  be  use- 
ful to  him  afterwards  all  through  his  life.  He  would  be  free 
to  choose  a  career  after  his  own  inclinations  after  he  had  left 
the  Ecole,  and  you  would  have  gained  time  without  binding 
him  down  to  any  programme.  Men  who  distinguish  them- 
selves there  are  always  sought  after.  Diplomatists,  scholars, 
administrators,  engineers,  generals,  sailors,  magistrates,  manu- 
facturers, and  bankers  are  all  educated  at  the  Ecole.  So  it 
is  nothing  at  all  extraordinary  that  a  young  man  belonging  to 
a  great  or  wealthy  family  should  study  to  qualify  for  admis- 
sion. If  Gabriel  should  make  up  his  mind  to  this,  I  would 
ask  you will  you  grant  me  my  request  ?  Say,  Yes." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  Let  me  be  his  tutor  ?  "  he  said  nervously. 

Marguerite  looked  at  M.  de  Solis,  then  she  took  his  hand 
and  said,  "Yes." 

She  was  silent  for  a  moment,  then  she  added  in  an  unsteady 
voice — 

"  How  much  I  value  the  delicacy  which  has  led  you  to  offer 
something  that  I  can  accept  from  you.  In  all  that  you  have 
just  said  I  can  see  how  much  you  have  thought  for  us.  Thank 
you." 


138  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

Simply  as  these  words  were  said,  Emmanuel  turned  his  head 
away  lest  Marguerite  should  see  the  tears  of  happiness  in  his 
eyes ;  he  was  overcome  by  the  delight  of  being  useful  to  her. 

"  I  will  bring  them  both  to  see  you,"  he  went  on  when  he 
had  recovered  his  self-possession.  "  To-morrow  is  a  holiday." 
He  rose  and  took  leave  of  Marguerite,  who  shortly  followed 
him  to  the  house;  as  he  crossed  the  court  he  still  saw  her 
standing  by  the  dining-room  door,  and  received  a  last  friendly 
sign  of  farewell. 

After  dinner  the  notary  came  to  call  on  M.  Claes.  Mar- 
guerite and  her  father  were  out  in  the  garden,  and  Pierquin 
took  up  his  position  between  them  on  the  very  bench  where 
Emmanuel  had  sat  that  morning. 

"My  dear  cousin,"  he  said,  addressing  Balthazar,  "I  have 
come  to  talk  about  business  to-night.  Forty-two  days  have 
now  elapsed  since  your  lamented  wife's  demise " 

"  I  have  not  noticed  how  the  time  went,"  said  Claes,  brush- 
ing away  a  tear  that  rose  at  the  technical  term  demise. 

"Oh!  monsieur,"  cried  Marguerite,  with  a  glance  at  the 
lawyer,  "  how  can  you  ?  " 

"  But,  my  dear  Marguerite,  we  lawyers  are  obliged  to  con- 
sider the  limits  of  the  time  prescribed  by  law.  This  matter 
more  particularly  concerns  you  and  your  co-heirs.  All  M. 
Claes'  children  are  under  age,  so  within  forty-five  days  of  his 
wife's  demise  he  is  bound  to  have  an  inventory  made  out,  so 
as  to  ascertain  the  value  of  the  estate  they  held  in  common. 
How  are  we  to  find  out  if  it  is  solvent  or  no,  and  whether 
there  is  enough  to  satisfy  the  minors'  claims?" 

Marguerite  rose. 

"Do  not  go  away,  cousin,"  said  Pierquin ;  "this  matter 
concerns  you  as  well  as  your  father:  You  know  how  deeply 
I  feel  your  grief,  but  you  must  give  your  attention  at  once  to 
these  requirements  of  the  law,  otherwise  you  may  both  get 
into  serious  trouble.  I  am  simply  doing  my  duty  as  legal 
adviser  to  the  family/' 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  139 

"  He  is  quite  right,"  said  Claes. 

"  The  time  expires  in  two  days,"  Pierquin  continued,  "and 
I  must  set  to  work  to-morrow  to  make  out  the  inventory,  if  it 
is  only  to  postpone  the  payment  of  legacy  duty  which  the 
treasury  will  demand  very  shortly.  The  treasury  is  not  dis- 
turbed by  compunction,  and  has  no  heart ;  it  sets  its  claws  in 
us  at  all  seasons.  So  my  clerk  and  I  will  come  here  every 
day  from  ten  to  four  with  M.  Raparlier  the  valuer.  As  soon 
as  we  have  finished  here  in  the  town,  we  will  go  into  the 
country.  We  can  talk  about  the  forest  of  Waignies  by  and 
by.  So  that  is  settled,  and  now  let  us  turn  our  attention  to 
another  point.  We  must  call  a  family  council,  and  appoint  a 
guardian.  M.  Conyncks  of  Bruges  is  your  nearest  living  rela- 
tive, but  he  unluckily  has  become  a  Belgian  citizen.  You 
ought  to  write  to  him,  cousin,  and  find  out  whether  the  old 
gentleman  has  any  notion  of  settling  in  France ;  he  has  a  fine 
property  on  this  side  of  the  frontier ;  and  you  might  perhaps 
induce  him  and  his  daughter  to  move  into  French  Flanders. 
If  he  declines  to  make  a  change,  I  will  see  about  arranging 
for  a  council  of  some  of  the  nearer  remaining  relations." 

"  What  is  the  use  of  an  inventory?  "  asked  Marguerite. 

"To  find  out  how  the  property  stands,  and  ascertain  the 
assets  and  debts.  When  it  is  all  clearly  scheduled,  the  family 
council  takes  such  steps  as  it  deems  necessary  on  behalf  of 
the  minors " 

"Pierquin,"  said  Claes,  as  he  rose  from  the  garden  seat, 
"  do  anything  that  you  think  necessary  to  protect  my  chil- 
dren's interests,  but  spare  us  the  distress  of  selling  anything 
that  belonged  to  my  dear  wife " 

He  did  not  finish  the  sentence,  but  he  spoke  with  so  much 
dignity,  there  was  such  deep  feeling  in  his  tones,  that  Mar- 
guerite took  her  father's  hand  in  hers  and  kissed  it. 

"  I  will  return  to-morrow,  then,"  said  Pierquin. 

"  Come  and  breakfast  with  us,"  said  Balthazar.  He  seemed 
to  be  collecting  scattered  memories  together,  for  in  a  moment 


140  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

he  exclaimed:  "But  in  my  marriage  contract,  which  was 
drawn  up  according  to  the  custom  of  Hainault,  I  released  my 
wife  from  the  obligation  of  making  an  inventory,  in  order  to 
spare  her  the  worry  and  annoyance,  and  it  is  quite  probable 
that  I  was  likewise  released " 

"Oh!  how  fortunate!"  cried  Marguerite.  "It  would 
have  given  us  so  much  trouble " 

"  Very  well,"  said  Pierquin,  who  was  rather  put  out;  "  we 
will  look  into  your  marriage  contract  to-morrow." 

"Then  you  did  not  know  of  this?"  said  Marguerite,  an 
inquiry  which  put  an  end  to  the  interview,  for  the  notary  was 
so  much  embarrassed  by  his  cousin's  home-thrust  that  he  was 
glad  to  abandon  the  discussion. 

"The  devil  is  in  it  I  "  said  he  to  himself  as  he  crossed  the 
courtyard.  "  That  man,  for  all  his  abstractedness,  can  find 
his  wandering  wits  in  the  nick  of  time,  and  put  a  stop  to  our 
precautions  against  him.  He  will  squander  his  children's 
money,  it  is  as  plain  as  that  two  and  two  make  four.  Talk 
of  business  to  a  girl  of  nineteen,  and  she  gets  sentimental 
over  it !  Here  I  am  racking  my  brains  to  save  the  property 
of  those  children  by  regular  means,  by  coming  to  an  under- 
standing with  old  Conyncks,  and  this  is  the  end  of  it !  I 
have  thrown  away  all  my  chances  with  Marguerite ;  she  is 
sure  to  ask  her  father  why  I  wanted  an  inventory  of  the  prop- 
erty, which  she  now  fancies  to  be  quite  unnecessary,  and 
Claes,  of  course,  will  tell  her  that  lawyers  have  a  craze  for 
drawing  up  documents  ;  that  we  are  notaries  first,  and  cousins 
and  friends,  and  whatnot,  afterwards,  all  sorts  of  rubbish,  in 
fact." 

He  slammed  the  door,  storming  inwardly  at  clients  who  let 
their  sentimentality  ruin  them. 

Balthazar  was  right.  The  inventory  did  not  take  place. 
So  nothing  was  done  to  limit  or  define  the  father's  powers 
over  his  children's  property. 

Several  months  went  by,  and  brought  no  changes  to  the 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  141 

Maison  Claes.  Gabriel,  under  the  able  tuition  of  M.  de  Solis, 
studied  hard,  learned  the  necessary  foreign  languages,  and 
prepared  to  pass  the  entrance  examination  at  the  Ecole  Poly- 
technique.  Felicie  and  Marguerite  lived  in  absolute  retire- 
ment ;  but,  nevertheless,  they  spent  the  summer  at  their 
father's  country  house,  in  order  to  economize.  M.  Claes  was 
much  occupied  by  his  business  affairs;  he  paid  his  debts, 
raising  the  money  on  his  own  property,  and  went  to  visit  the 
forest  of  Waignies. 

By  the  middle  of  the  year  1817  his  grief  had  gradually 
abated,  and  he  began  to  feel  depressed  by  the  dulness  and 
sameness  of  the  life  he  led.  At  first  he  resisted  temptation 
bravely,  and  would  not  allow  himself  to  think  of  chemistry ; 
but  the  love  of  science  was  only  dormant,  and  in  spite  of  him 
self  his  thoughts  turned  towards  his  old  pursuits.  Then  he 
thought  he  would  not  begin  his  experiments;  he  would  not 
take  up  his  science  practically,  he  would  confine  himself  to 
theory ;  but  the  longer  he  dwelt  with  these  theories,  the 
stronger  his  passion  grew,  and  he  began  to  equivocate  with 
himself.  He  asked  himself  whether  he  was  really  bound  not 
to  prosecute  his  researches,  and  remembered  how  his  wife  had 
refused  his  oath.  He  had  certainly  vowed  to  himself  that  he 
would  make  no  further  attempt  to  solve  the  great  problem, 
but  the  road  to  success  had  never  been  so  certain  and  so 
plain ;  was  he  not  surely  free  to  change  his  mind  now  that 
the  way  was  clear  ?  He  was  then  fifty-nine  years  of  age,  and 
his  idea  possessed  him  now  with  the  dogged  fixity  which 
slowly  develops  into  monomania.  Outward  circumstances 
also  combined  to  shake  his  wavering  loyalty. 

Europe  was  at  peace.  Men  of  science  of  various  nationali- 
ties, cut  off  from  all  communication  with  each  other  by  twenty 
years  of  wars,  were  now  free  to  correspond  and  to  communi- 
cate their  discoveries  and  theories  to  each  other.  Science 
was  making  great  strides.  Claes  found  that  modern  discov- 
eries had  a  bearing,  which  his  fellow-chemists  did  not  suspect, 


142  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

upon  the  problem  of  the  Absolute.  Learned  men  who  were 
devoting  their  lives  to  the  solution  of  other  scientific  enigmas 
began  to  think,  as  he  did,  that  light  and  heat,  and  galvanism 
and  electricity,  were  only  different  effects  of  the  same  cause, 
and  that  all  the  various  substances  which  had  hitherto  been 
regarded  as  different  elements  were  merely  allotropic  forms 
of  the  same  unknown  element.  The  fear  that  some  other 
chemist  might  effect  the  reduction  of  metals,  and  find  the 
principle  of  electricity  (two  discoveries  which  would  lead  to 
the  solution  of  the  problem  of  the  Absolute),  raised  the 
enthusiasm,  which  the  people  of  Douai  called  a  mania,  to  the 
highest  pitch ;  only  those  who  have  felt  a  like  passionate  love  of 
science,  or  who  have  known  the  tyranny  of  ideas,  can  imagine 
the  force  of  the  paroxysm.  Balthazar's  frenzy  was  but  the 
more  violent  because  it  had  been  so  long  subdued,  and  now 
broke  out  afresh. 

Marguerite,  who  had  been  watching  her  father  very  closely, 
divined  this  crisis,  and  opened  the  long-closed  parlor.  She 
thought  that  if  they  sat  in  that  room  once  more,  old  painful 
memories  of  her  mother's  death  would  be  awakened,  and 
would  act  as  a  restraint,  and  she  was  to  some  extent  successful. 
For  a  little  while  her  father's  grief  was  reawakened,  and  the 
inevitable  plunge  into  the  abyss  was  deferred,  but  it  was  only 
for  a  little  while.  She  determined  to  go  into  society  once 
more,  and  so  to  distract  Balthazar's  attention  from  these 
thoughts.  Several  good  marriages  were  proposed  for  her,  over 
which  Claes  deliberated,  but  Marguerite  said  that  until  she 
was  twenty-five  she  would  not  marry.  In  spite  of  all  his 
daughter's  endeavors,  in  spite  of  remorseful  inner  struggles, 
Balthazar  began  his  experiments  again  in  the  early  days  of  the 
winter.  At  first  they  were  conducted  secretly,  but  it  was  not 
easy  to  hide  such  occupations  as  his  from  the  inquisitive  eyes 
of  the  maidservants. 

One  day,  therefore,  while  Marguerite  was  dressing,  Martha 
said  to  her,  "  Mademoiselle,  it  is  all  over  with  us !  That 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  143 

wretch  of  a  Mulquinier  (who  is  the  devil  himself  in  human 
shape,  for  I  have  never  seen  him  cross  himself)  has  gone  up 
into  the  attic  again.  There  is  the  master  on  the  high  road  to 
hell !  Heaven  send  that  he  may  not  be  the  death  of  you  all, 
as  he  was  the  death  of  the  poor  dear  mistress  !  " 

"Impossible  !  "  said  Marguerite. 

"  Come  and  see  their  goings-on  for  yourself." 

Mile.  Claes  sprang  to  the  window,  and  saw,  in  fact,  a  thin 
streak  of  smoke  rising  from  the  laboratory  chimney. 

"I  shall  be  twenty-one  in  a  few  months'  time,"  she 
thought,  "  and  then  our  property  must  be  squandered  no 
longer;  I  must  find  a  way  to  prevent  it." 

When  Balthazar  finally  gave  way  to  his  passion,  his  respect 
for  his  children's  interests  was,  of  course,  less  of  a  restraint 
than  his  affection  for  his  wife  had  been.  Such  barriers  were 
easily  overleaped,  his  conscience  was  more  elastic,  his  passion 
had  grown  stronger.  Glory,  and  hard  work,  and  hope,  and 
misery  lay  before  him ;  he  set  out  on  his  way  with  the  energy 
of  full  and  entire  conviction.  He  felt  so  sure  of  the  outcome 
of  it  all  that  he  worked  day  and  night,  flinging  himself  into 
his  pursuits  with  a  zeal  that  alarmed  his  daughters ;  they  did 
not  know  that  a  man's  health  seldom  suffers  from  the  work 
that  he  loves  and  does  for  its  own  sake. 

As  soon  as  her  father  began  his  experiments,  Marguerite 
reduced  the  expenses  of  housekeeping,  and  became  almost  as 
parsimonious  as  a  miser.  Josette  and  Martha  entered  into 
her  plans,  and  seconded  her  loyally.  As  for  Claes,  he  was 
scarcely  aware  of  these  retrenchments ;  he  did  not  notice 
that  they  had  been  reduced  to  the  bare  necessaries  of  life. 
He  began  by  staying  away  from  the  family  breakfast ;  then 
the  whole  day  was  spent  in  the  laboratory,  and  he  only  came 
down  to  dinner,  and  sat  for  a  few  silent  hours  afterwards  in 
the  evening  in  the  parlor  with  the  two  girls.  He  never  spoke 
to  them  ;  he  did  not  seem  to  hear  them  when  they  wished 
him  good-night ;  he  mechanically  let  them  kiss  him  on  both 


144  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

cheeks.  Such  neglect  as  this  might  have  brought  about  seri- 
ous consequences  if  Marguerite  had  not  wielded  a  mother's 
authority,  if  the  love  in  her  heart  had  not  been  a  safeguard. 

Pierquin  had  discontinued  his  visits  entirely ;  in  his  opinion 
nothing  could  save  his  cousins  from  utter  ruin.  Balthazar's 
estates,  which  were  worth  about  two  hundred  thousand  crowns, 
and  brought  in  sixteen  thousand  francs,  were  already  incum- 
bered  with  mortgages  to  the  amount  of  three  hundred  thousand 
francs.  Claes  had  inaugurated  his  second  epoch  of  scientific 
enthusiasm  by  a  heavy  loan.  At  that  moment  his  income  just 
sufficed  to  pay  the  interest  on  his  debts ;  and  as,  with  the 
improvidence  characteristic  of  men  who  live  for  an  idea,  he 
had  made  over  all  the  rents  of  his  farms  to  Marguerite  to 
defray  the  expenses  of  the  housekeeping,  the  notary  calculated 
that  the  end  must  come  in  three  years'  time,  when  everything 
would  go  to  rack  and  ruin,  and  the  sheriff's  officers  would  eat 
up  all  that  Balthazar  had  left.  Under  the  influence  of  Mar- 
guerite's coldness,  Pierquin's  indifference  had  almost  become 
hostility.  He  meant  to  secure  his  retreat  in  case  his  cousin 
should  grow  so  poor  that  he  might  no  longer  wish  to  marry 
her,  and  spoke  of  the  Claes  everywhere  in  a  pitying  tone. 

"  Poor  things,  they  are  in  a  fair  way  to  be  ruined,"  said  he. 
"I  did  everything  I  could  to  save  them;  but,  would  you 
believe  it  ?  Mile.  Claes  herself  set  her  face  against  every  plan 
by  which  the  law  could  step  in  to  secure  those  children  from 
starvation." 

Emmanuel,  through  his  uncle's  influence,  had  been  appointed 
headmaster  of  the  College  de  Douai,  his  own  personal  qualifi- 
cations having  eminently  fitted  him  for  the  post.  He  came 
almost  every  evening  to  see  the  two  girls,  who  summoned 
their  old  duenna  to  the  parlor  as  soon  as  their  father  left  them 
for  the  night.  Always  at  the  same  hour  they  heard  the  knock 
at  the  door :  young  M.  de  Solis  was  never  late.  For  the  past 
three  months  Marguerite's  mute  gratitude  and  graciousness 
had  given  him  confidence ;  he  had  developed,  and  was  him- 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  145 

self.  His  purity  of  soul  shone  like  a  flawless  diamond,  and 
Marguerite  learned  to  know  the  full  value  of  his  steadfast 
strength  of  character,  when  she  saw  that  it  had  its  source  in 
the  depths  of  his  nature.  She  saw  the  blossoms  open  out  one 
by  one;  hitherto  she  had  only  known  of  them  by  their 
fragrance.  Every  day  Emmanuel  realized  some  hope  of 
hers,  new  splendors  lighted  up  the  enchanted  country  of 
love,  the  clouds  vanished,  the  sky  grew  clear  and  serene, 
unsuspected  treasures  which  had  been  hidden  in  the  gloom 
shone  forth.  For  Emmanuel  was  more  at  his  ease ;  he  could 
display  the  winning  grace  of  the  heart,  the  infectious  gaiety 
of  youth,  the  simplicity  that  comes  of  a  life  of  study,  the 
treasures  of  a  fastidious  mind  and  unsophisticated  nature,  the 
innocent  merriment  that  suits  so  well  with  youthful  love. 
Marguerite  and  Emmanuel  understood  each  other  better; 
together  they  had  explored  the  depths  of  their  hearts,  and 
had  found  the  same  thoughts,  pearls  of  the  same  lustre, 
blended  notes  of  harmony,  as  clear  and  sweet  as  the  magic 
music  which  holds  the  divers  spellbound  under  the  sea.  They 
had  come  to  know  each  other  through  the  interchange  of 
ideas  in  the  course  of  those  evening  talks,  studying  each  other 
with  a  curiosity  that  grew  to  be  a  delicate  imaginative  sympa- 
thy. There  was  no  bashfulness  on  either  side,  but  perhaps 
some  coquetry.  The  hours  which  Emmanuel  spent  with  the 
two  girls  under  Martha's  eyes  reconciled  Marguerite  to  her 
life  of  anguish  and  resignation ;  the  love  that  grew  uncon- 
sciously was  her  support  in  her  troubles.  Emmanuel's  affec- 
tion expressed  itself  with  the  natural  grace  that  is  irresistible, 
with  the  delicate  and  delightful  wit  that  reveals  fresh  phases 
of  deep  feeling,  as  the  facets  of  a  precious  stone  set  free  all  its 
hidden  fires ;  the  wonderful  devices  that  love  teaches  lovers, 
which  render  a  woman  loyally  responsive  to  the  hand  of  the 
artist  who  sets  new  life  into  the  old  forms,  to  the  tones  of  the 
voice  which  give  a  new  significance  to  a  phrase  each  time  it 
is  repeated.  Love  is  not  merely  a  sentiment,  it  is  an  art.  A 
10 


146  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

bare  word,  a  hesitation,  a  nothing,  reveals  to  a  woman  the 
presence  of  the  great  and  sublime  artist  who  can  touch  her 
heart  without  withering  it.  The  farther  Emmanuel  went,  the 
more  charming  were  the  ways  in  which  his  love  expressed 
itself. 

"I  have  outstripped  Pierquin,"  he  said  one  evening;  "I 
am  the  bearer  of  bad  tidings  that  he  is  going  to  bring,  but  I 
thought  I  would  rather  tell  them  myself.  Your  father  has  sold 
your  forest  to  some  speculators,  who  have  taken  the  timber  as 
it  stands  to  sell  again  in  smaller  quantities;  the  trees  have 
been  cut  down  already,  and  all  the  trunks  have  been  taken 
away.  Three  hundred  thousand  francs  were  paid  down  at 
once,  and  this  was  sent  to  Paris  to  discharge  M.  Claes'  debts 
there ;  but  in  order  to  clear  his  debts  entirely,  he  has  been 
forced  to  assign  to  his  creditors  a  hundred  thousand  francs  out 
of  the  hundred  thousand  crowns  still  due  to  him  on  the  pur- 
chase money." 

Just  at  that  point  Pierquin  came  in. 

"Well,  my  dear  cousin,"  he  said,  "you  are  ruined,  you 
see !  I  told  you  how  it  would  be,  but  you  would  not  listen  to 
me.  Your  father  has  a  good  appetite ;  he  only  made  one  bite 
of  your  forest.  Your  guardian,  M.  Conyncks,  is  away  at 
Amsterdam,  where  he  is  negotiating  the  sale  of  his  Belgian 
estates,  and  while  his  back  is  turned  Claes  seizes  the  opportu- 
nity to  do  this  stroke  of  business.  It  is  hardly  fair.  I  have 
just  written  to  old  Conyncks,  but  it  will  be  all  up  with  you 
by  the  time  he  gets  here.  You  will  be  obliged  to  take  pro- 
ceedings against  your  father.  It  will  not  take  very  long  to 
settle  the  affair  in  a  court  of  law,  but  Claes  will  not  come  out 
of  it  very  well ;  M.  Conyncks  will  be  compelled  to  take  ac- 
tion, the  law  requires  it  in  such  cases.  And  all  this  has  come 
of  your  wilfulness  !  Do  you  see  now  how  prudent  I  was,  and 
how  devoted  to  your  interests  ?  ' ' 

"  I  have  some  good  news  for  you,  mademoiselle,"  said  young 
de  Solis  in  his  gentle  voice ;  "  Gabriel  has  been  admitted  as  a 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  147 

pupil  at  the  Ecolc  Polytcchniquc ;  the  difficulties  which  were 
raised  at  first  have  been  cleared  away." 

Marguerite  thanked  him  by  a  smile,  and  said,  "  Then  I 
shall  find  a  use  for  my  savings.  Martha,"  she  added,  speak- 
ing to  the  old  servant,  "we  must  begin  at  once  to  make 
ready  Gabriel's  outfit.  Poor  Felicie,  we  both  must  work 
hard,"  she  said,  with  a  kiss  on  her  sister's  forehead. 

"  He  will  return  home  to-morrow,  and  you  will  have  him 
here  for  about  ten  days;  on  the  i5th  of  November  he  must 
be  in  Paris." 

"  Cousin  Gabriel  is  well  advised,"  said  the  notary,  as  he 
scanned  the  headmaster ;  "  he  will  have  to  make  his  way  in 
the  world.  But  now,  my  dear  Marguerite,  the  honor  of  the 
family  is  at  stake ;  will  you  listen  to  me  this  time  ? ' ' 

"  Not  if  it  is  a  question  of  marriage." 

"But  what  will  you  do?  " 

"  Nothing,  cousin.     What  should  I  do  ?  " 

"You  are  of  age." 

"  I  shall  be  of  age  in  a  few  days'  time.  Is  there  any  course 
which  you  can  suggest  that  will  reconcile  our  interests  with 
our  duty  to  our  father  and  with  the  honor  of  the  family?  " 

"You  can  do  nothing,  cousin,  without  your  uncle.  That 
is  clear.  When  he  comes  back  to  Douai  I  will  call  again." 

"Good-evening,  monsieur,"  said  Marguerite. 

"The  poorer  she  grows,  the  more  airs  she  gives  herself," 
thought  the  notary.  Aloud  he  said,  "  Good-evening,  made- 
moiselle. M.  de  Solis,  I  have  the  honor  to  wish  you  good- 
day,"  and  he  went  away  without  paying  any  attention  to 
Felicie  or  to  Martha. 

When  the  door  closed  on  him,  Emmanuel  spoke,  with  hesi- 
tation in  his  voice :  "I  have  been  studying  the  Code  for  the 
past  two  days,"  he  said,  "and  I  have  taken  counsel  with  an 
old  lawyer,  one  of  my  uncle's  friends.  If  you  will  allow  me, 
I  will  go  to  Amsterdam  to-morrow.  Listen,  dear  Marguerite." 

He  had  spoken  her  name  for  the  first  time.     She  thanked 


148  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

him  by  a  glance  and  a  gentle  inclination  of  the  head,  and 
listened  smilingly,  though  her  eyes  were  full  of  tears. 

"  You  can  speak  before  my  sister,"  said  Marguerite ;  "  she 
has  no  need  to  learn  resignation  to  a  life  of  hardship  and  toil, 
she  is  so  brave  and  sweet,  but  from  this  discussion  she  will 
learn  how  much  we  need  all  our  courage." 

The  two  sisters  clasped  each  other's  hands,  as  if  to  renew 
the  pledge  of  the  closer  union  brought  about  by  a  common 
trouble. 

"  Leave  us,  Martha." 

"  Dear  Marguerite,"  Emmanuel  began,  and  something  of 
the  happiness  that  he  felt  at  thus  acquiring  one  of  the  least 
privileges  of  affection  could  be  felt  in  his  voice,  "  I  have  the 
names  and  addresses  of  the  purchasers,  who  have  not  yet  paid 
the  balance  of  the  two  hundred  thousand  francs  for  the  felled 
timber.  To-morrow,  if  you  give  your  consent,  a  lawyer  act- 
ing in  M.  Conyncks'  name  shall  serve  a  writ  of  attachment  on 
them.  Your  great-uncle  will  return  in  a  week's  time.  He 
will  call  a  family  council  and  emancipate  Gabriel,  who  is  now 
eighteen.  When  that  has  been  done,  you  and  your  brother 
will  be  in  a  position  to  demand  your  rights,  and  you  can 
require  your  share  of  the  proceeds  of  this  sale  of  the  wood. 
M.  Claes  could  not  refuse  you  the  two  hundred  thousand  francs 
which  have  been  attached ;  as  for  the  remaining  hundred 
thousand  francs,  they  could  be  secured  to  you  by  a  mortgage 
on  this  house  that  you  are  living  in.  M.  Conyncks  will 
demand  securities  for  the  three  hundred  thousand  francs  which 
belong  to  Mademoiselle  Felicie  and  to  Jean,  and  your  father 
will  be  obliged  to  mortgage  his  property  in  the  plains  of 
Orchies,  which  are  already  encumbered  with  a  debt  of  a  hun- 
dred thousand  crowns.  The  law  regards  mortgages  for  the 
benefit  of  minors  as  a  first  charge,  so  everything  will  be  saved. 
M.  Claes'  hands  will  be  tied  for  the  future ;  your  landed 
property  is  inalienable ;  he  will  be  unable  to  borrow  any  more 
money  on  his  own,  which  will  be  mortgaged  beyond  their 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  149 

value,  and  the  whole  arrangement  will  be  a  family  affair; 
there  will  be  no  lawsuits  and  no  scandal.  Your  father  will 
perforce  set  about  his  investigations  less  recklessly,  if,  indeed, 
he  does  not  give  them  up  altogether." 

"Yes,"  said  Marguerite,  "but  how  shall  we  live?  There 
will  be  no  interest  paid  on  the  hundred  thousand  francs 
secured  to  us  on  this  house  so  long  as  we  continue  to  live  in 
it.  The  farms  in  the  plains  of  Orchies  will  bring  in  just 
enough  to  pay  interest  on  the  mortgages.  What  shall  we 
do?" 

"  Well,  in  the  first  place,"  said  Emmanuel,  "  if  you  invest 
Gabriel's  remaining  fifty  thousand  francs  in  the  funds,  at 
present  prices  it  will  bring  in  four  thousand  livres ;  that  will 
be  sufficient  to  pay  all  his  expenses  at  the  Ecole  in  Paris. 
Gabriel  cannot  touch  the  principal  nor  the  money  secured  to 
him  on  this  house  until  he  comes  of  age,  so  you  need  not  fear 
that  he  will  squander  a  penny  of  it,  and  you  will  have  one 
expense  the  less.  In  the  second  place,  is  there  not  your  own 
share,  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs?" 

"My  father  will  be  sure  to  ask  me  for  them,"  she  cried  in 
dismay,  "  and  I  could  not  refuse  him." 

"  Well,  then,  dear  Marguerite,  you  can  secure  the  money 
by  robbing  yourself.  Invest  it  in  the  funds  in  your  brother's 
name;  it  would  bring  you  in  twelve  or  thirteen  thousand 
livres,  and  you  could  manage  to  live  on  that.  An  emancipated 
minor  cannot  touch  his  principal  without  the  consent  of  the 
family  council,  so  you  will  gain  three  years  of  freedom  from 
anxiety.  In  three  years'  time  your  father  will  either  have  solved 
his  problem,  or,  as  is  more  probable,  he  will  have  given  it  up  as 
hopeless  ;  and  when  Gabriel  comes  of  age  he  can  transfer  the 
stock  into  your  name,  and  the  accounts  can  be  finally  settled 
among  the  four  of  you." 

Marguerite  asked  for  an  explanation  of  the  provisions  of 
the  law  which  she  could  not  understand  at  first,  and  again 
they  went  over  every  point.  It  was  certainly  a  novel  situa- 


150  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

tion — two  lovers  poring  over  a  copy  of  the  Code,  which  Em- 
manuel had  brought  with  him  in  order  to  make  the  position 
of  minors  clear  to  Marguerite.  Love's  penetration  came  to 
the  aid  of  her  woman's  quick-wittedness,  and  she  soon 
grasped  the  gist  of  the  matter. 

The  next  day  Gabriel  returned  home.  M.  de  Solis  came 
also,  and  from  him  Balthazar  heard  the  news  of  his  son's 
admission  to  the  Ecole  Poly  technique.  Claes  expressed  his 
acknowledgments  by  a  wave  of  the  hand.  "  I  am  very  glad 
to  hear  it,"  he  said ;  "  so  Gabriel  is  to  be  a  scientific  man,  is 
he?"  and  the  head  of  the  house  returned  to  his  laboratory. 

"  Gabriel,"  said  Marguerite,  as  Balthazar  went  out,  "  you 
must  work  hard,  and  you  must  not  be  extravagant.  Do  as 
others  do,  but  be  very  careful ;  and  while  you  are  in  Paris 
spend  your  holidays  with  our  friends  and  relations  there,  and 
do  not  contract  the  expensive  habits  which  ruin  young  men. 
Your  necessary  expenses  will  amount  to  nearly  a  thousand 
crowns,  so  you  will  have  a  thousand  francs  left  for  pocket 
money.  That  should  be  enough." 

"  I  will  answer  for  him,"  said  Emmanuel  de  Solis,  laying  his 
hand  on  his  pupil's  shoulder. 

A  month  later  M.  de  Conyncks  and  Marguerite  had  ob- 
tained all  the  required  guarantee  from  M.  Claes.  Emmanuel's 
prudent  advice  had  been  approved  and  carried  out  to  the 
letter.  Balthazar  felt  ashamed  of  the  sale  of  the  forest.  His 
creditors  had  harassed  him,  until  he  had  been  driven  to  take 
this  rash  step  to  escape  from  them ;  and  now,  when  he  was 
confronted  with  the  consequences  of  his  deeds,  when  he  was 
face  to  face,  moreover,  with  his  stern  cousin,  who  was  inflexible 
where  honor  was  concerned,  he  did  all  that  was  required  of 
him.  He  was,  in  fact,  not  ill  pleased  to  repair  so  easily  the  mis- 
chief he  had  half-unconsciously  wrought.  He  put  his  signature 
to  the  various  papers  laid  before  him  with  the  preoccupied  air 
of  a  man  for  whom  science  was  the  one  reality,  and  all  things 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  151 

else  of  no  moment.  He  had  no  more  foresight  than  the 
negro  who  sells  his  wife  in  the  morning  for  a  drop  of  brandy, 
and  sheds  tears  over  her  loss  in  the  evening.  Apparently  he 
could  not  look  forward :  even  the  immediate  future  was  beyond 
his  ken ;  he  never  stopped  to  ask  himself  what  must  happen 
when  his  last  ducat  has  been  thrown  into  the  furnace,  and 
prosecuted  his  researches  as  recklessly  as  before.  He  neither 
knew  nor  cared  to  know  that  the  house  in  which  he  lived  was 
his  only  in  name,  and,  like  his  estates,  had  passed  into  other 
hands ;  he  did  not  realize  the  fact  that  (thanks  to  the  strin- 
gent regulations  of  the  law)  he  could  not  raise  another  penny 
on  the  property  of  which  he  was  in  a  manner  the  legal  guar- 
dian. 

The  year  1818  went  by,  and  no  untoward  event  occurred. 
The  two  girls  just  managed  to  defray  the  necessary  expenses  of 
the  housekeeping  and  of  Jean's  education  with  the  interest  of 
the  money  invested  in  Gabriel's  name,  which  he  punctually  re- 
mitted every  quarter.  M.  de  Solis  lost  his  uncle  in  the  Decem- 
ber of  that  year. 

One  morning  Marguerite  heard  from  Martha  that  her  father 
had  sold  his  collection  of  tulips,  the  furniture  of  the  state 
apartments,  and  all  their  remaining  plate.  She  was  compelled 
to  repurchase  the  necessary  silver  for  daily  use  herself,  and  to 
have  it  marked  with  her  own  initials.  Hitherto  she  had 
watched  Balthazar's  depredations  in  silence  ;  but  after  dinner 
that  evening  she  asked  Felicie  to  leave  her  alone  with  her 
father,  and  when  he  had  seated  himself  by  the  fireside  as 
usual,  Marguerite  spoke.  She  had  nerved  herself  for  the  try- 
ing ordeal  of  the  impending  struggle  with  her  father. 

"  You  are  the  master  here,  dear  father,"  she  said  ;  "  you  can 
sell  everything,  even  your  children.  We  will  all  obey  you  with- 
out a  murmur ;  but  I  must  point  out  to  you  that  we  have  no 
money  left,  that  we  have  scarcely  enough  to  live  upon  this  year, 
and  that  Felicie  and  I  have  to  work  night  and  day  to  earn  the 
money  to  pay  for  Jean's  school  expenses  by  the  lace  dress 


152  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

which  we  are  making.  Father  dear,  give  up  your  researches, 
I  implore  you." 

"  You  are  right,  dear  child  ;  in  six  weeks  they  will  come  to 
an  end.  I  shall  have  discovered  the  Absolute,  or  the  Abso- 
lute will  be  proved  to  be  undiscoverable.  You  will  have 
millions " 

"  But  leave  us  bread  to  eat  meanwhile,"  pleaded  Marguerite. 

"  Bread  ?  Is  there  no  bread  in  the  house?  "  said  Claes  in 
blank  dismay.  "  No  bread  in  the  house  of  a  Claes  !  What 
has  become  of  all  our  property?  " 

"  You  have  cut  down  the  forest  of  Waignies.  The  ground 
has  not  been  cleared  as  yet,  so  it  brings  in  nothing,  and  the 
rents  of  the  farms  at  Orchies  are  not  sufficient  to  pay  interest 
on  the  mortgages." 

" Then  how  do  we  live?"  he  asked. 

Marguerite  held  up  her  needle. 

"The  interest  on  Gabriel's  money  helps  us,"  she  added, 
"but  it  is  not  enough.  I  shall  just  make  both  ends  meet  at 
the  end  of  the  year  if  you  do  not  overwhelm  me  with  bills 
that  I  did  not  expect,  for  you  say  nothing  about  your  pur- 
chases. I  feel  quite  sure  that  I  have  enough  to  meet  my 
quarterly  expenses,  it  is  all  planned  out  so  carefully — and 
then  a  bill  is  sent  in  for  soda  or  potash,  or  zinc  or  sulphur, 
and  all  sorts  of  things." 

"  Have  patience  and  wait  another  six  weeks,  dear  child,  and 
then  I  will  be  very  prudent.  You  shall  see  wonders,  my  little 
Marguerite." 

"It  is  quite  time  to  think  of  your  own  affairs.  You  have 
sold  everything  ;  pictures,  tulips,  silver-plate — nothing  is  left 
to  us  ;  but  at  any  rate  you  will  not  run  into  debt  again  ?  ' ' 

"  I  am  determined  to  make  no  more  debts." 

"  No  more  debts  !  "  she  cried.     "  Then  there  are  debts  ?  " 

"Oh  !  nothing,  nothing,  mere  trifles,"  he  said,  reddening, 
as  he  lowered  his  eyes. 

For  the  first  time  in  her  life  Marguerite  felt  humiliated  by 


THE    QUEST  OF   THE  ABSOLUTE.  153 

her  father's  humiliation;  it  was  so  painful  to  her,  that  she 
could  not  bring  herself  to  inquire  into  the  matter ;  but  a  month 
later  a  messenger  came  from  a  Douai  bank  with  a  bill  of 
exchange  for  ten  thousand  francs,  which  bore  Claes'  signature. 
When  Marguerite  asked  for  a  day's  delay,  and  expressed  her 
regret  that  she  had  not  received  any  notice  and  so  was  unpre- 
pared to  meet  the  bill,  the  messenger  informed  her  that 
Messieurs  Protez  and  Chiffreville  held  nine  others,  each  for  a 
like  amount,  which  would  fall  due  in  consecutive  months. 

"  It  is  all  over  with  us  !  "  cried  Marguerite,  "  the  time  has 
come." 

She  sent  for  her  father,  and  walked  restlessly  up  and  down 
the  parlor,  speaking  to  herself,  "  A  hundred  thousand  francs, 

or  our  father  must  go  to  prison  ! What  shall  I  do  ?  Oh  ! 

what  shall  I  do  ?  " 

Balthazar  did  not  come.  Marguerite  grew  tired  of  waiting, 
and  went  up  to  the  laboratory.  She  paused  in  the  doorway, 
and  saw  her  father  standing  in  a  brilliant  patch  of  sunlight  in 
the  middle  of  a  vast  room  filled  with  machinery  and  dusty 
glass  vessels  ;  the  tables  that  stood  here  and  there  were  loaded 
with  books  and  numbered  and  ticketed  specimens  of  various 
substances ;  yet  other  specimens  were  heaped  on  the  shelves, 
along  the  walls,  or  flung  down  beside  the  furnaces.  There 
was  something  repugnant  to  orderly  Flemish  prejudices  in  all 
this  confused  litter.  Balthazar's  tall  figure  rose  above  a  col- 
lection of  flasks  and  retorts ;  he  had  thrown  off  his  coat  and 
rolled  back  his  sleeves  above  the  elbows  like  a  workman,  his 
shirt  was  unfastened,  exposing  his  chest,  covered  with  white 
hair.  He  was  gazing  with  frightful  intentness  on  an  air-pump, 
from  which  he  never  took  his  eyes.  The  receiver  of  the 
instrument  was  covered  by  a  lens  constructed  of  two  convex 
glasses,  the  space  between  them  being  filled  with  alcohol ;  the 
sunlight  that  entered  the  room  through  one  of  the  panes  of  the 
rose  window  (the  rest  had  been  carefully  blocked  up)  was  thus 
focussed  on  the  contents  of  the  receiver.  The  plate  of  the 


154  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

receiver  was  insulated,  and  communicated  with  the  wire  of  a 
huge  voltaic  battery.  Le  Mulquinier  was  busy  at  the  moment 
in  shifting  the  plate  of  the  receiver,  so  that  the  lens  might  be 
maintained  in  a  position  perpendicular  to  the  rays  of  the  sun  ; 
he  raised  his  face,  which  was  black  with  dust,  and  shouted, 
"Ah!  mademoiselle,  keep  away  !  " 

She  looked  at  her  father,  who  knelt  on  one  knee  before  his 
apparatus,  perfectly  indifferent  to  the  rays  of  sunlight  that 
shone  full  on  his  face  and  lit  up  his  hair  until  it  gleamed  like 
silver ;  his  brows  were  knotted,  every  muscle  of  his  face  was 
tense  with  painful  expectation.  The  strange  things  strewn 
around  him,  the  mysterious  machinery  dimly  visible  in  the 
semi-darkness  of  the  rest  of  the  attic,  everything  about  her 
combined  to  alarm  Marguerite. 

"  Our  father  is  mad,"  she  said  to  herself  in  her  dismay. 

Then  she  went  up  to  him  and  whispered  in  his  ear,  "  Send 
Le  Mulquinier  away." 

"  No,  no,  child,  I  want  him  ;  I  am  waiting  to  see  the  result 
of  an  experiment  which  has  never  been  tried  before.  For  the 
last  three  days  we  have  been  on  the  watch  for  a  ray  of  sun- 
light ;  everything  is  ready,  I  am  about  to  concentrate  the 
solar  rays  on  these  metals  in  a  perfect  vacuum,  submitting 
them  simultaneously  to  the  action  of  a  current  of  electricity. 
In  another  moment,  you  see,  I  shall  employ  the  most  powerful 
agents  known  to  chemistry,  and  I  alone " 

"  Oh,  father  !  instead  of  reducing  metal  to  gas,  you  should 
keep  it  to  pay  your  bills  of  exchange ' ' 

"Wait!  wait!" 

"  But  M.  Mersktus  is  here,  father  ;  he  must  have  ten  thou- 
sand francs  by  four  o'clock." 

"Yes,  yes,  presently.  It  is  quite  right;  I  did  sign  a  bill 
for  some  small  amount  which  would  fall  due  this  month.  I 
thought  I  should  have  discovered  the  Absolute  before  this. 
Good  heavens  !  if  only  I  had  a  July  sun,  the  experiment 
would  be  over  by  this  time." 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  155 

He  ran  his  fingers  through  his  hair,  the  tears  came  into  his 
eyes,  and  he  dropped  into  an  old  cane-seated  chair. 

"That  is  quite  right,  sir,"  said  Le  Mulquinier.  "It  is  all 
the  fault  of  that  rascally  sun  that  won't  shine  enough,  the  lazy 
beggar." 

Neither  master  nor  man  seemed  to  remember  Marguerite's 
presence. 

"Leave  us,  Mulquinier,"  she  said. 

"  Ah  !  "  cried  Claes,  "  I  have  it !  We  will  try  a  new  ex- 
periment." 

"  Father,  never  mind  the  experiments  now,"  said  the  young 
girl  when  they  were  alone.  "  Here  is  a  demand  for  a  hun- 
dred thousand  francs,  and  we  have  not  a  farthing.  Your 
honor  is  involved ;  you  must  come  down  and  leave  the  labo- 
ratory. What  will  become  of  you  if  you  are  imprisoned  ?  Shall 
your  white  hair  and  the  name  of  Claes  be  soiled  with  the  dis- 
grace of  bankruptcy  ?  It  shall  not  be,  I  will  not  have  it,  I 
will  find  strength  to  combat  your  madness;  it  would  be  dread- 
ful to  see  you  wanting  bread  in  your  old  age.  Open  your 
eyes  to  our  position  ;  come  to  your  senses  at  last !  " 

"Madness!  "  cried  Balthazar,  rising  to  his  feet.  A  light 
shone  in  the  eyes  he  fixed  on  his  daughter's  face,  "Madness  !" 
There  was  something  so  majestic  in  his  manner  as  he  repeated 
the  word  that  his  daughter  trembled.  He  folded  his  arms. 
"Ah  !  your  mother  would  never  have  uttered  that  word,"  he 
went  on.  "  She  did  not  shut  her  eyes  to  the  importance  of 
my  researches ;  she  studied  science  that  she  might  understand 
me ;  she  saw  that  I  was  working  for  humanity,  that  there  was 
nothing  selfish  nor  sordid  in  me.  I  see  that  a  wife's  love 
rises  far  above  a  daughter's  affection  ;  yes,  love  is  the  loftiest 
of  all  feelings.  Come  to  my  senses  !"  he  went  on,  striking 
his  breast.  "When  did  I  take  leave  of  them?  Am  I  not 
myself?  We  are  poor,  are  we  ?  Very  well,  my  daughter,  I 
choose  to  be  poor ;  do  you  understand  ?  I  am  your  father, 
and  you  must  obey  me.  You  shall  be  rich  again  when  I  wish 


156  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

it.  As  for  your  fortune,  it  is  a  mere  nothing.  When  I  find 
a  solvent  of  carbon,  I  will  fill  the  parlor  down  stairs  with 
diamonds,  but  even  that  is  a  pitiful  trifle  compared  with  the 
wonders  for  which  I  am  seeking.  Surely  you  can  wait  when 
I  am  doing  my  utmost,  and  spending  my  life  in  superhuman 
efforts  to " 

"Father,  I  have  no  right  to  ask  an  account  of  the  four 
millions  which  have  melted  away  in  this  garret.  I  will  say 
nothing  of  my  mother,  but  your  science  killed  her.  If  I  were 
married,  I  should  no  doubt  love  my  husband  as  my  mother 
loved  you ;  I  would  sacrifice  everything  for  him,  just  as  my 
mother  sacrificed  everything  for  you.  I  am  doing  as 
she  bade  me,  I  have  given  you  all  I  had  to  give ;  you  have 
had  proof  of  it,  I  would  not  marry  lest  you  should  be  com- 
pelled to  render  an  account  of  your  guardianship.  But  let  us 
say  no  more  about  the  past,  let  us  think  of  the  present.  You 
have  brought  things  to  a  crisis,  and  I  have  come  here  to  put 
it  before  you.  We  must  have  money  to  meet  these  bills ;  do 
you  understand  me  ?  There  is  absolutely  nothing  left  but  the 
portrait  of  our  ancestor  Van  Claes.  I  have  come  in  my 
mother's  name ;  my  mother,  whose  heart  failed  her  when  she 
had  to  struggle  for  her  children's  sake  against  their  father's 
will,  bade  me  resist  you ;  I  have  come  in  my  brothers'  name 
and  my  sister's ;  father,  I  have  come  in  the  name  of  all  the 
Claes  to  bid  you  cease  your  experiments,  and  to  retrieve  your 
losses  before  you  turn  to  chemistry  again.  If  you  steel  your- 
self against  me,  if  you  use  your  authority  over  us  only  to  kill 
us — your  ancestors,  and  your  own  honor  plead  for  me,  and 
what  can  chemistry  urge  against  the  voices  of  your  family  ?  I 
have  been  your  daughter  but  too  well,"  Marguerite  replied 
with  stern  emphasis. 

"And  now  you  mean  to  be  my  executioner,"  he  said  in  a 
feeble  voice. 

Marguerite  turned  and  fled.  She  could  not  trust  herself  to 
play  her  part  any  longer;  her  mother's  voice  rang  in  her  ears, 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  157 

*'  Love  your  father,  and  do  not  cross  him — more  than  you  can 
help.'" 

"Here  is  a  pretty  piece  of  work  of  mademoiselle's,"  said 
Le  Mulquinier,  as  he  came  down  into  the  kitchen  for  his 
breakfast.  "  We  had  just  about  put  our  finger  on  the  secret ; 
we  only  wanted  a  blink  of  July  sunlight,  and  the  master — ah ! 
what  a  man  that  is !  he  stands  in  the  shoes  of  Providence,  as 
you  may  say.  There  was  not  that"  he  said  to  Josette,  click- 
ing his  thumb-nail  against  his  front  teeth,  "between  us  and 
the  secret,  when,  presto  !  up  she  comes  and  makes  a  fuss  about 
some  nonsensical  bills " 

"Good,  then,"  cried  Martha,  "pay  them  yourself  out  of 
your  wages ! ' ' 

"  Am  I  to  eat  dry  bread  ?  Where  is  the  butter  ? ' '  demanded 
Le  Mulquinier,  turning  to  Josette. 

"And  where  is  the  money  to  buy  it  with?"  the  cook 
answered  tartly.  "What,  you  old  villain,  if  you  can  make 
gold  in  your  devil's  kitchen,  why  don't  you  make  butter?  It 
is  not  near  so  hard  to  make,  and  it  would  fetch  something  in 
the  market,  and  go  some  way  towards  making  the  pot  boil. 
All  the  rest  of  us  are  eating  dry  bread.  The  young  ladies 
are  living  on  dry  bread  and  walnuts,  and  you  want  to  be 
better  fed  than  your  betters?  Mademoiselle  has  only  a  hun- 
dred francs  a  month  to  spend  for  the  whole  household  ;  there 
is  only  one  dinner  for  us  all.  If  you  want  luxuries,  you  have 
your  furnaces  upstairs,  where  you  fritter  away  pearls,  till  they 
talk  of  nothing  else  all  over  the  town.  Just  look  for  your 
roast  fowls  up  there  !  " 

Le  Mulquinier  took  up  his  bread  and  left  the  kitchen. 

"He  will  buy  something  with  his  own  money,"  said 
Martha;  "all  the  better,  it  is  so  much  saved.  Isn't  he  a 
stingy  old  heathen?" 

"We  must  starve  him,  that  is  the  only  way,"  said  Josette. 
"  He  has  not  waxed  a  single  floor  this  week,  that  he  hasn't ; 
he  is  always  up  above,  and  I  am  doing  his  work  ;  he  may  just 


158  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

as  well  pay  me  for  it  by  treating  us  to  a  few  herrings  :  if  he 
brings  any  home  I  shall  look  after  them." 

"Ah  !  "  said  Martha,  "there  is  Mile.  Marguerite  crying. 
Her  old  wizard  of  a  father  would  gobble  down  the  house 
without  saying  grace.  In  my  country  they  would  have  burned 
him  alive  for  a  sorcerer  long  before  this ;  but  they  have  no 
more  religion  here  than  Moorish  infidels." 

In  spite  of  herself,  Mile.  Claes  was  sobbing  as  she  came 
through  the  gallery.  She  reached  her  room,  sought  for  her 
mother's  letter,  and  read  as  follows : 

"  MY  CHILD. — If  God  so  wills,  my  spirit  will  be  with  you 
as  you  read  these  lines,  the  last  that  I  shall  ever  write ;  they 
are  full  of  love  for  my  dear  little  ones,  left  to  the  mercy  of  a 
fiend  who  was  too  strong  for  me,  a  fiend  who  will  have  de- 
voured your  last  morsel  of  bread,  as  he  gnawed  my  life  and 
my  love  !  You  knew,  my  darling,  if  I  loved  your  father,  and 
my  love  for  him  is  failing  now  as  I  die,  for  I  am  taking  pre- 
cautions against  him  :  I  am  doing  that  which  I  could  not  bring 
myself  to  confess  in  my  lifetime.  Yes,  in  the  depths  of  my 
grave  I  treasure  a  last  resource  for  you,  until  the  day  comes 
when  you  will  know  the  last  extremity  of  misfortune.  If  he 
has  brought  you  to  absolute  want,  my  child ;  if  the  honor  of 
our  house  is  at  stake,  you  must  ask  M.  de  Solis,  if  he  is  still 
living,  or  if  not,  his  nephew,  our  good  Emmanuel,  for  a  hun- 
dred and  seventy  thousand  francs,  which  are  yours,  and  which 
will  enable  you  to  live.  And  if  at  last  you  find  that  nothing 
can  check  this  passion,  if  the  thought  of  his  children's  welfare 
proves  no  stronger  a  restraint  than  did  a  regard  for  my  happi- 
ness, and  he  should  wrong  you  still  further,  then  leave  your 
father,  for  your  lives  at  any  rate  must  not  be  sacrificed  to  his. 
I  could  not  desert  him ;  my  place  was  at  his  side.  It  rests 
with  you,  Marguerite,  to  save  the  family;  you  must  protect 
Gabriel,  Jean,  and  F6licie  at  all  costs.  Take  courage,  be  the 
guardian  angel  of  the  Claes;  and  you  must  be  firm,  Mar- 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  159 

guerite,  I  dare  not  say  be  ruthless;  but  if  the  evil  that  has 
been  already  wrought  is  to  be  even  partially  repaired,  you 
must  save  something,  you  must  think  of  yourself  as  being  on 
the  brink  of  dire  poverty,  for  nothing  can  stem  the  course  of 
the  passion  which  took  all  I  had  in  the  world  from  me.  So, 
my  child,  out  of  the  fulness  of  affection  you  must  refuse  to 
listen  to  the  promptings  of  affection  ;  you  may  have  to  deceive 
your  father,  but  the  deceptions  will  be  a  glory  to  you,  there 
will  be  hard  things  to  say  and  do,  and  you  will  feel  guilty, 
but  they  will  be  heroic  deeds  if  they  are  done  to  protect  your 
defenceless  brothers  and  sister.  Our  good  and  upright  M.  de 
Solis  assured  me  of  this,  and  never  was  there  a  clearer  and 
more  scrupulous  conscience  than  his.  I  could  never  have 
brought  myself  to  speak  the  words  I  have  written,  not  even  at 
the  point  of  death.  And  yet — be  tender  and  reverent  in  this 
hideous  struggle;  soften  your  refusals,  and  resist  him  on  your 
knees.  Not  even  death  will  have  put  an  end  to  my  sorrow 
and  my  tears.  Kiss  my  dear  children  for  me  now  that  you 
are  to  become  their  sole  guardian,  and  may  God  and  all  the 
saints  be  with  you.  JOSEPHINE." 

A  receipt  was  enclosed  from  the  Messieurs  de  Solis,  uncle 
and  nephew,  for  the  amount  deposited  in  their  hands  by  Mme. 
Claes,  which  they  undertook  to  refund  to  her  children  if  her 
family  should  present  the  document. 

Marguerite  called  the  old  duenna,  and  Martha  hurried  up- 
stairs to  her  mistress,  who  bade  her  go  to  ask  M.  Emmanuel 
de  Solis  to  come  to  the  Maison  Claes. 

"How  noble  and  honorable  he  is!"  she  thought;  "he 
never  breathed  a  word  of  this  to  me,  and  he  has  made  all  my 
troubles  and  difficulties  his." 

Emmanuel  came  before  Martha  had  returned  from  her 
errand. 

"You  have  kept  a  secret  which  concerned  me,"  she  said, 
as  she  held  out  the  paper. 


160  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

Emmanuel  bent  his  head. 

"  Marguerite,  this  means  that  you  are  in  great  distress?"  he 
asked,  and  tears  came  to  his  eyes. 

"  Ah  !  yes.  You  will  help  me,  you  whom  my  mother  calls 
'our  good  Emmanuel,'  "  she  said,  as  she  gave  him  the  letter; 
and,  in  spite  of  her  trouble,  she  felt  a  sudden  thrill  of  joy  that 
her  mother  approved  her  choice. 

"  I  have  been  ready  to  live  or  die  for  you  ever  since  I  saw 
you  in  the  picture  gallery,"  he  answered,  with  tears  of  happi- 
ness and  sorrow  in  his  eyes;  "but  I  did  not  know,  and  I 
waited,  I  did  not  even  dare  to  hope  that  one  day  you  would 
let  me  die  for  you.  If  you  really  know  me,  you  know  that 
my  word  is  sacred,  so  you  must  forgive  me  for  keeping  my 
word  to  your  mother ;  I  could  only  obey  her  wishes  to  the 
letter,  I  had  no  right  to  exercise  my  own  judgment " 

"You  have  saved  us  !  "  she  broke  in,  as  she  took  his  arm, 
and  they  went  down  together  to  the  parlor. 

When  Marguerite  had  learned  the  history  of  the  trust  fund 
she  told  him  the  whole  miserable  story  of  the  straits  to  which 
they  were  reduced. 

"We  must  meet  the  bills  at  once,"  said  Emmanuel;  "if 
they  have  been  deposited  with  Mersktus,  you  will  save  interest 
on  them.  Then  I  will  send  you  the  remaining  seventy 
thousand  francs.  My  poor  uncle  left  me  that  amount  in  gold 
ducats,  so  it  will  be  easy  to  bring  them  here,  and  no  one  will 
know  about  it." 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "bring  them  at  night ;  our  father  will  be 
asleep,  and  we  can  hide  them  somewhere.  If  he  knew  that  I 
had  any  money,  he  might  take  it  from  me  by  force.  Oh  ! 
Emmanuel,  to  be  suspicious  of  one's  own  father,"  she  said, 
and  burst  into  tears  as  she  leaned  her  forehead  against  his 
breast. 

It  was  in  this  piteous  and  gracious  entreaty  for  protection 
that  Marguerite's  love  spoke  for  the  first  time ;  love  had  been 
surrounded  from  its  first  beginnings  by  sorrow,  and  had  grown 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  161 

familiar  with  pain,  but  her  heart  was  too  full,  and  at  this  last 
trouble  it  overflowed. 

"  What  is  to  be  done  ?  What  will  become  of  us  ?  He  sees 
nothing  of  all  this ;  he  has  not  a  thought  for  us  nor  for  him- 
self, for  I  cannot  think  how  he  can  live  in  the  garret,  it  is  like 
a  furnace." 

"  But  what  can  you  expect  of  a  man  who  at  every  moment 
of  his  life  cries,  like  Richard  III.,  'My  kingdom  for  a 
horse?'  "  answered  Emmanuel.  "  He  will  be  inexorable,  and 
you  must  be  equally  unyielding.  You  can  pay  his  bills,  and 
let  him  have  your  fortune  if  you  will,  but  your  brothers'  and 
sister's  money  is  neither  yours  nor  his." 

"Let  him  have  my  fortune  !  "  she  repeated,  grasping  Em- 
manuel's hand  in  hers,  and  looking  at  him  with  sparkling 
eyes.  "This  is  your  advice  to  me  ?  And  Pierquin  told  me 
lies  without  end,  for  fear  I  should  part  with  it." 

"Alas  !  "  he  said,  "perhaps  I  too  am  selfish  after  my  own 
fashion.  Sometimes  I  would  have  you  without  a  penny,  for  it 
seems  to  me  that  so  you  would  be  nearer  to  me ;  sometimes  I 
would  have  you  rich  and  happy,  and  then  I  feel  how  poor  and 
petty  it  is  to  think  that  the  empty  pomp  of  wealth  could  keep 
us  apart." 

"  Dear  !  let  us  talk  no  more  about  ourselves " 

"Ourselves!"  he  exclaimed  in  ecstasy;  then  after  a  mo- 
ment he  went  on,  "The  evil  is  great,  no  doubt,  but  it  is  not 
irreparable." 

"  It  lies  with  us  to  repair  it ;  the  family  has  no  longer  a  head. 
He  has  utterly  forgotten  all  that  he  owes  to  himself  and  his 
children,  and  has  lost  all  sense  of  right  and  wrong — for  he 
who  was  so  high-minded,  so  generous,  and  so  upright,  who 
should  have  been  his  children's  protector,  has  squandered 
their  property  in  defiance  of  the  law.  To  what  depths  he 
must  have  fallen  !  Good  God  !  what  can  he  expect  to  find  ?  " 

"  Unluckily,  dear  Marguerite,  however  culpable  he  may  be 
as  the  head  of  a  family,  he  is  quite  right  from  a  scientific 
11 


162  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

point  of  view  to  act  as  he  does.  Some  score  of  men  per- 
haps in  all  Europe  are  capable  of  understanding  him  and 
admire  him,  though  every  one  else  says  that  he  is  mad.  Still, 
you  are  perfectly  justified  in  refusing  to  surrender  the  chil- 
dren's money.  There  is  an  element  of  chance  in  every  great 
discovery.  If  your  father  still  persists  in  working  out  his 
problem,  he  will  discover  the  solution  without  this  reckless 
expenditure,  and  very  possibly  just  at  the  moment  when  he 
gives  it  up  as  hopeless." 

"It  is  well  for  my  poor  mother  that  she  died  !  "  said  Mar- 
guerite. "  She  would  have  suffered  a  martyrdom  a  thousand 
times  worse  than  death.  The  first  shock  of  her  collision 
with  science  killed  her,  and  there  seems  to  be  no  end  to  the 
struggle " 

"  There  will  be  an  end  to  it,"  said  Emmanuel,  "  when  you 
have  absolutely  nothing  left.  There  will  be  an  end  to  M. 
Claes'  credit,  and  then  he  will  be  forced  to  stop." 

"Then  he  may  as  well  stop  at  once,"  said  Marguerite,  "for 
we  have  nothing  left." 

M.  de  Solis  bought  up  the  bills  and  gave  them  to  Marguerite. 
Balthazar  came  down  to  dinner  a  few  minutes  earlier  than 
usual.  For  the  first  time  in  two  years  his  daughter  saw  traces 
of  emotion  on  his  face,  and  his  distress  was  painful  to  see. 
He  was  once  more  a  father ;  reason  had  put  science  to  flight. 
He  gave  a  glance  into  the  courtyard,  and  then  into  the  gar- 
den j  and  when  he  was  sure  that  they  were  alone,  he  turned 
to  his  daughter  with  sadness  and  kindness  in  his  face. 

"Dear  child,"  he  said,  taking  her  hand  and  pressing  it 
with  earnest  tenderness,  "  forgive  your  old  father.  Yes,  Mar- 
guerite, I  was  in  the  wrong,  and  you  were  altogether  right.  I 
have  not  discovered  the  secret,  so  there  is  no  excuse  for  me. 
I  will  go  away  from  here.  I  cannot  look  on  and  see  Van 
Claes  sold,"  he  went  on,  and  his  eyes  turned  to  the  martyr's 
portrait.  "  He  died  for  the  cause  of  freedom,  and  I  shall  die 
for  science;  he  is  revered,  I  am  hated " 


THE    QUEST  OF   THE  ABSOLUTE.  163 

"  Hated,  father?  Oh  !  no,"  she  cried,  throwing  her  arms 
about  him;  "we  all  adore  you,  do  we  not,  Felicie,"  she 
asked  of  her  sister,  who  came  into  the  room  at  that  moment. 

"What  is  it,  father  dear?"  asked  the  little  girl,  slipping 
her  hand  into  his. 

"I  have  ruined  you  all " 

"  Eh  !  "  cried  Felicie,  "  the  boys  will  make  a  fortune  for  us. 
Jean  is  always  at  the  head  of  his  class. ' ' 

"  Wait  a  moment,  dear  father,"  Marguerite  added,  and  with 
a  charming  caressing  gesture  the  daughter  led  her  father  to 
the  chimney-piece,  and  drew  several  papers  from  beneath 
the  clock ;  "  here  are  your  drafts,  but  you  must  not  sign  your 
name  to  any  more  bills,  for  there  will  be  nothing  left  to  pay 
them  with  another  time ' ' 

"Then  you  have  some  money?"  Balthazar  said  in  his 
daughter's  ear,  as  soon  as  he  had  recovered  from  his  surprise ; 
and  with  all  her  heroism,  Marguerite's  heart  sank  at  the  words. 
There  was  such  frenzy  of  joy,  and  hope,  and  expectation  in 
her  father's  face ;  his  eyes  were  wandering  round  the  room  as 
if  in  search  of  the  money. 

"  Yes,  father,"  she  said  sadly,  "I  have  my  fortune." 

"Give  it  to  me !  "  he  cried,  with  an  eagerness  which  he 
could  not  control ;  "I  will  give  you  back  an  hundredfold." 

"Yes,  I  will  give  it  to  you,"  said  Marguerite,  looking  at 
her  father,  who  did  not  understand  the  meaning  that  lay 
beneath  his  daughter's  words. 

"  Ah  !  my  dear  child,"  he  said,  "  you  have  saved  my  life  ! 
I  had  thought  out  a  final  experiment,  the  one  thing  that  re- 
mains to  be  tried.  If  I  do  not  succeed  this  time,  I  must 
renounce  the  Quest  of  the  Absolute  altogether.  Come  here, 
darling,  give  me  your  arm  ;  if  I  can  compass  it,  you  shall  be  the 
happiest  woman  in  the  world  ;  you  have  given  me  fresh  hopes 
of  happiness  and  fame ;  you  have  given  me  power ;  I  will 
heap  riches  upon  you,  and  wealth,  and  jewels." 

He  clasped  both  her  hands  in  his  and  kissed  her  forehead, 


164  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

giving  expression  to  his  joy  in  caresses  that  seemed  almost  like 
abject  gratitude  to  Marguerite.  Balthazar  had  no  eyes  for  any 
one  else  during  the  dinner ;  he  watched  her  with  something 
like  a  lover's  fondness  and  alert  attention ;  she  could  not 
move  but  he  tried  to  read  her  thoughts  and  to  guess  her 
wishes,  and  waited  on  her  with  an  assiduity  which  embarrassed 
her ;  there  was  a  youthfulness  in  his  manner  which  contrasted 
strangely  with  his  premature  old  age.  But  in  reply  to  his 
caresses  and  attentions,  Marguerite  could  only  draw  his  atten- 
tion to  their  present  distress,  either  by  giving  expression  to 
her  doubts,  or  by  a  glance  at  the  empty  tiers  of  shelves  along 
the  walls. 

"  Pshaw !  "  he  said,  "  in  six  months'  time  we  will  fill  them 
with  gold-plate  and  wonders.  You  shall  live  like  a  queen  in 
state.  All  the  earth  will  be  under  our  feet ;  everything  will 
be  ours.  And  all  through  you,  my  Marguerite.  Margarita  !  " 
he  mused  smilingly,  "  the  name  was  prophetic.  Marguerite 
means  a  pearl.  Sterne  said  that  somewhere  or  other.  Have 
you  read  Sterne  ?  Would  you  care  to  read  Sterne  ?  It  would 
amuse  you." 

"They  say  that  pearls  are  a  result  of  some  disease,"  she 
said  bitterly,  "  and  we  have  already  suffered  much." 

"  Do  not  be  sad ;  you  will  make  the  fortune  of  those  you 
love  ;  you  will  be  rich  and  great " 

"  Mademoiselle  has  such  a  good  heart,"  said  Le  Mulquinier, 
and  his  colander  countenance  was  distorted  by  a  smile. 

The  rest  of  the  evening  Balthazar  spent  with  his  daughters, 
and  for  them  exerted  all  his  powers  of  conversation  and  the 
charm  of  his  personality.  There  was  something  magnetic  in 
his  looks  and  tones,  a  fascination  like  that  of  the  serpent ;  the 
genius  and  the  kindly  wit  that  had  attracted  Josephine  were 
called  into  play ;  he  seemed,  as  it  were,  to  take  his  daughters 
to  his  heart.  When  Emmanuel  de  Solis  came,  he  found  a 
family  group;  the  father  and  children  were  talking  as  they 
had  not  done  for  a  long  time.  In  spite  of  himself,  the  young 


THE    QUEST  OF   THE  ABSOLUTE.  165 

headmaster  fell  under  the  spell  of  the  scene  ;  it  was  impossible 
to  resist  Balthazar's  manner,  de  Solis  was  carried  away  by  it. 
Men  of  science,  however,  deeply  absorbed  in  watching  quite 
other  phenomena,  bring  highly-trained  powers  of  perception 
to  the  least  details  of  daily  life.  Nothing  escapes  their  obser- 
vation in  their  own  sphere ;  they  are  not  oblivious,  but  they 
keep  to  their  own  times  and  seasons,  and  are  seldom  in  touch 
with  the  world  that  lies  beyond  that  sphere ;  they  know  every- 
thing, and  forthwith  forget  it  all ;  they  make  forecasts  of  the 
future  for  their  own  sole  benefit,  foresee  the  events  that  take 
others  by  surprise,  and  keep  their  own  counsel.  If,  while  to 
all  appearance  they  are  unconscious  of  what  is  passing,  they 
make  use  of  their  special  gift  of  observation  and  deduction, 
they  see  and  understand,  and  draw  their  own  inferences,  and 
there  is  an  end  of  it ;  work  claims  them  again,  and  they 
seldom  make  any  but  a  blundering  use  of  their  knowledge  of 
the  things  of  life.  At  times  when  they  are  roused  from  their 
social  apathy,  or  if  they  happen  to  drop  from  the  world  of 
ideas  to  the  world  of  men  and  women,  they  bring  with  them 
a  well-stored  memory,  and  are  by  no  means  strangers  to  what 
is  happening  there. 

So  it  was,  manifestly,  with  Balthazar.  He  had  quick 
sympathies  as  well  as  keen-sightedness,  and  knew  the  whole 
of  his  daughter's  life;  he  had  guessed  or  learned  in  some  way 
the  almost  imperceptible  events  of  the  course  of  the  mysterious 
love  that  bound  her  to  Emmanuel ;  he  let  the  lovers  feel  that 
he  had  guessed  their  secret,  and  sanctioned  their  affection  by 
sharing  in  it.  From  Marguerite's  father  this  was  the  sweetest 
form  of  flattery,  and  they  could  not  resist  it.  The  evening 
thus  spent  was  delightful  after  the  troubled  and  anxious  life 
the  poor  girls  had  led  of  late.  When  Balthazar  at  last  left 
them,  after  they  had  basked,  as  it  were,  for  a  while  in  the 
sunlight  of  his  presence,  and  bathed  in  his  tenderness,  Em- 
manuel de  Solis'  constrained  manner  changed ;  he  emptied 
his  pockets  of  three  thousand  ducats,  of  which  he  had  been 


166  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

uneasily  conscious.  He  set  them  down  on  Marguerite's  work- 
table,  and  she  covered  them  with  some  house-linen  which  she 
was  mending.  Then  he  went  back  for  the  remainder.  When 
he  returned,  Felicie  had  gone  to  bed.  It  was  past  eleven 
o'clock,  and  Martha,  who  was  sitting  up  for  her  mistress,  was 
still  busy  in  Felicie's  room. 

"  Where  shall  I  hide  it  ?  "  asked  Marguerite ;  she  could  not 
resist  the  temptation  of  passing  the  coins  through  her  fingers, 
a  childish  freak,  a  moment's  delay,  which  cost  her  dear  ! 

"Those  pedestals  are  hollow,"  said  Emmanuel;  "I  will 
raise  the  column  off  its  base,  and  we  will  slip  the  gold  inside 
it:  no  one  will  think  of  looking  there  for  it." 

But  just  as  Marguerite  was  making  the  last  journey  but  one 
between  the  work-table  and  the  pedestal,  she  gave  a  shrill  cry 
and  let  the  piles  of  ducats  fall,  the  paper  in  which  they  were 
wrapped  gave  way,  and  the  gold  coins  rolled  in  all  directions 
over  the  floor ;  her  father  was  standing  in  the  doorway :  his 
eager  look  terrified  her. 

"What  are  you  doing?"  he  asked,  looking  from  his 
daughter,  who  stood  transfixed  with  terror,  to  the  startled  de 
Solis,  who  had  hastily  risen  to  his  feet — too  late,  his  kneeling 
position  at  the  foot  of  the  pedestal  had  been  sufficient  to  be- 
tray him. 

The  din  of  the  falling  gold  rang  hideously  in  their  ears ; 
the  coins  lay  scattered  abroad  on  the  floor,  a  sinister  augury 
of  the  future. 

"I  thought  so,"  said  Balthazar;  "I  felt  sure  that  I  heard 
the  rattle  of  gold." 

He  was  almost  as  excited  as  the  other  two ;  one  thought 
possessed  them  both,  and  made  their  hearts  beat  so  violently 
that  the  sounds  could  be  heard  in  the  great  silence  which  sud- 
denly fell  in  the  parlor. 

"Thank  you,  M.  de  Solis,"  said  Marguerite,  with  a  glance 
of  intelligence,  which  said:  "Play  your  part;  help  me  to 
save  the  money." 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  167 

"  What !  "  cried  Balthazar,  with  a  clairvoyant  glance  at  his 
daughter  and  Emmanuel,  "  then  this  gold ?  " 

"  Belongs  to  M.  de  Solis,  who  has  been  so  good  as  to 
lend  it  to  me  that  we  may  fulfil  our  engagements,"  she 
answered. 

M.  de  Solis  reddened,  and  turned  as  if  to  go. 

"Monsieur,"  said  Balthazar,  laying  a  hand  on  his  arm, 
"do  not  slip  away  from  my  grateful  thanks." 

"You  owe  me  no  thanks,  M.  Claes.  The  money  belongs 
to  Mile.  Marguerite  ;  she  has  borrowed  it  of  me  on  security," 
he  answered,  looking  at  Marguerite,  who  thanked  him  by  an 
almost  imperceptible  movement  of  her  eyelids. 

"I  cannot  allow  that,"  said  Claes,  taking  up  a  pen  and  a 
sheet  of  paper  from  the  table  where  Felicie  had  been  writing. 
He  turned  to  the  two  bewildered  young  people. 

"  How  much  is  there  !  "  he  asked. 

Balthazar's  ruling  passion  had  made  him  craftier  than  the 
most  cunning  of  deliberate  scoundrels  ;  he  meant  to  have  the 
money  in  his  own  hands.  Marguerite  and  Emmanuel  de  Solis 
hesitated. 

"Let  us  count  it,"  said  Balthazar. 

"  There  are  six  thousand  ducats,"  Emmanuel  said. 

"  Seventy  thousand  francs,"  returned  Claes. 

Marguerite  and  Emmanuel  exchanged  glances,  and  Em- 
manuel took  courage. 

"  M.  Claes,"  he  said  respectfully,  "your  note  of  hand  is 
worth  nothing — pardon  the  technical  expression.  This  morn- 
ing I  lent  mademoiselle  a  hundred  thousand  francs  to  buy  up 
the  bills  which  you  were  unable  to  meet,  so  evidently  you  are 
not  in  a  position  to  give  me  any  security.  This  money  be- 
longs to  your  daughter,  who  can  dispose  of  it  as  seems  good 
to  her ;  but  I  have  only  lent  it  with  the  understanding  that 
she  will  sign  a  document  giving  me  a  claim  on  her  share  of 
the  land  at  Waignies,  on  which  the  forest  once  stood." 

Marguerite  turned  her  head  away  to  hide  the  tears  that 


168  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

filled  her  eyes.  She  knew  Emmanuel's  purity  of  heart.  He 
had  been  brought  up  by  his  uncle  in  the  most  scrupulous 
practice  of  the  virtues  prescribed  by  religion  ;  she  knew  that 
he  held  lies  in  special  abhorrence ;  he  had  laid  his  life  and  his 
heart  at  her  feet,  and  now  he  was  sacrificing  his  conscience 
for  her. 

"Good-night,  M.  de  Solis,"  said  Balthazar;  "I  had  not 
looked  for  suspicion  in  one  whom  I  regard  almost  with  a 
father's  eyes." 

Emmanuel  gave  Marguerite  a  piteous  glance,  and  then 
crossed  the  courtyard  with  Martha,  who  closed  and  bolted  the 
house  door  after  the  visitor  had  gone. 

As  soon  as  the  father  and  daughter  were  alone  together, 
Claes  said — 

"  You  love  him,  do  you  not?  " 

"  Father,  let  us  go  straight  to  the  point,"  she  said.  "  You 
want  this  money?  You  shall  never  have  any  of  it,"  and  she 
began  to  gather  up  the  scattered  ducats,  her  father  helping  her 
in  silence.  Together  they  counted  it  over,  Marguerite  show- 
ing not  a  trace  of  distrust.  When  the  gold  was  once  more 
arranged  in  piles,  Claes  spoke  in  the  tones  of  a  desperate 
man — 

"  Marguerite,  I  must  have  the  gold  !  " 

"If  you  take  it  from  me,  it  will  be  theft,"  she  said  coolly. 
"Listen  to  me,  father;  it  would  be  far  kinder  to  kill  us  out- 
right than  to  make  us  daily  endure  a  thousand  deaths.  You 
see,  one  of  us  must  give  way " 

"So  you  would  murder  your  father,"  he  said. 

"We  shall  have  avenged  our  mother's  death,"  she  said, 
pointing  to  the  spot  where  Mme.  Claes  had  died. 

"My  child,  if  you  only  knew  what  is  at  stake,  you  would 
not  say  such  things  as  these  to  me.  Listen  !  I  will  explain 
what  the  problem  is.  But  you  would  not  understand  !  "  he 
cried  in  despair.  "After  all,  give  it  to  me;  believe  in  your 
father  for  once.  Yes,  I  know  that  I  gave  your  mother  pain  ; 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  169 

I  know  that  I  have  squandered  (for  that  is  how  ignorant 
people  put  it)  my  own  fortune  and  made  great  inroads  into 
yours  ;  I  know  that  you  think  I  am  working  for  what  you  call 
madness,  but,  my  angel,  my  darling,  my.  love,  my  Marguerite, 
just  listen  to  me  !  If  I  do  not  succeed  this  time,  I  will  put 
myself  in  your  hands ;  all  that  you  desire  I  will  do ;  I  will 
give  to  you  the  obedience  that  you  owe  to  me ;  I  will  do  your 
bidding,  and  administer  my  affairs  as  you  shall  direct ;  I  will 
be  my  children's  guardian  no  longer ;  I  will  lay  down  my 
authority.  I  swear  it  by  your  mother  ! "  he  said,  shedding 
tears  as  he  spoke. 

Marguerite  turned  her  head  away;  she  could  not  bear  to 
see  his  tears ;  and  Claes,  thinking  that  this  was  a  sign  of 
yielding,  flung  himself  on  his  knees  before  her. 

"  Marguerite  !  Marguerite  !  give  me  the  gold  !  Give  it  to 
me  to  save  yourself  from  eternal  remorse.  What  are  twenty 
thousand  francs?  You  see,  I  shall  die;  this  will  kill  me. 
Listen  to  me,  Marguerite  !  My  promise  shall  be  religiously 
kept.  I  will  give  up  my  experiments  if  I  fail ;  I  will  go 
away ;  I  will  leave  Flanders,  and  even  France,  if  you  wish  it. 
I  will  begin  again  as  a  mechanic,  and  build  up  my  fortune 
sou  by  sou,  so  that  my  children  may  recover  at  last  all  that 
science  will  have  taken  from  them,"  he  earnestly  and  piteously 
cried. 

Marguerite  tried  to  persuade  her  father  to  rise,  but  he  still 
knelt  to  her,  and  continued,  with  tears  in  his  eyes — 

"  Be  tender  and  devoted  this  once  ;  it  is  the  last  time.  If 
I  do  not  succeed,  I  myself  will  acquiesce  in  your  harsh  judg- 
ment. You  can  call  me  a  madman,  a  bad  father  ;  you  can 
say  that  I  am  a  fool,  and  I  will  kiss  your  hands ;  beat  me  if 
you  will,  I  will  bless  you  as  the  best  of  daughters,  remember- 
ing that  you  have  given  me  your  very  life-blood." 

"Ah!"  she  cried,  "  if  it  were  only  my  life-blood,  you 
should  have  it ;  but  how  can  I  look  on  and  see  my  brothers 
and  sister  murdered  in  cold  blood  for  science  ?  I  cannot  I 


170  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

Let  it  end  !  "  she  cried,  drying  her  tears,  and  putting  away 
her  father's  caressing  hand  from  her. 

"Seventy  thousand  francs  and  two  months  !  "  he  said,  ris- 
ing in  anger;  "  I  want  no  more  than  that !  and  my  daughter 
bars  my  way  to  fame,  my  daughter  stands  between  wealth 
and  me,  My  curse  upon  you!"  he  went  on,  after  a 
moment's  pause.  "You  have  neither  a  daughter's  nor  a 

woman's  heart !  You  will  never  be  a  wife  nor  a  mother ! 

Let  me  have  it !  Say  the  word,  my  dear  little  one,  my  pre- 
cious child.  I  will  adore  you  !  "  and  he  stretched  out  his  hand 
with  horrible  eagerness  towards  the  gold. 

"I  cannot  help  myself  if  you  take  it  by  force,  but  God 
and  the  great  Claes  look  down  upon  us  now,"  said  Mar- 
guerite, pointing  to  the  portrait. 

"  Then  live,  if  you  can,  when  your  father's  blood  will  be 
on  your  head  !  "  cried  Balthazar,  looking  at  her  with  abhor- 
rence. 

"He  rose,  looked  round  the  parlor,  and  slowly  left  it; 
when  he  reached  the  door,  he  turned  and  came  back  as  a 
beggar  might,  with  an  imploring  gesture,  a  look  of  entreaty, 
but  Marguerite  only  shook  her  head  in  reply. 

"Farewell,  my  daughter!"  he  said  gently;  "try  to  live 
happily,"  and  he  left  the  room,  passing  up  the  staircase  with 
slow  and  measured  steps. 

When  he  had  gone,  Marguerite  stood  for  a  while  in  dull 
bewilderment ;  it  seemed  as  if  her  whole  world  had  slipped 
from  her.  She  was  no  longer  in  the  familiar  parlor ;  she  was 
no  longer  conscious  of  her  physical  existence ;  her  soul  had 
taken  wings  and  soared  to  a  world  where  thought  annihilates 
time  and  space,  where  the  veil  drawn  across  the  future  is 
lifted  by  some  divine  power.  It  seemed  to  her  that  she  lived 
through  whole  days  between  each  sound  of  her  father's  foot- 
steps on  the  staircase ;  and  when  she  heard  him  moving  above 
in  his  room,  a  cold  shudder  went  through  her.  A  sudden 
warning  vision  flashed  like  lightning  through  her  brain  ;  she 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  171 

fled  noiselessly  up  the  dark  staircase  with  the  speed  of  an 
arrow,  and  saw  her  father  pointing  a  pistol  at  his  head. 

"  Take  it  all !  "  she  cried,  as  she  sprang  towards  him. 

She  fell  into  a  chair.  At  the  sight  of  her  white  face, 
Balthazar  began  to  weep — such  tears  as  old  men  shed  ;  he  was 
like  a  child;  he  kissed  her  forehead,  speaking  incoherent, 
meaningless  words ;  he  almost  danced  for  joy,  and  tried  to 
play  with  her  as  a  lover  plays  with  the  mistress  who  has  made 
him  happy. 

"Enough  of  this,  father!"  she  said;  "remember  your 
promise  !  If  you  do  not  succeed,  will  you  obey  my  wishes?  " 

"Yes." 

"Oh,  mother!  "  she  cried,  turning  to  the  door  of  Mme. 
Claes'  room,  "  you  would  have  given  it  all  to  him,  would  you 
not?" 

"  Sleep  in  peace,"  said  Balthazar ;  "  you  are  a  good  girl." 

"Sleep!"  she  cried;  "the  nights  that  brought  sleep  are 
gone  with  my  youth.  You  have  made  me  old,  father,  just  as 
you  gradually  blighted  my  mother's  life." 

"  Poor  little  one  !  If  I  could  only  give  you  confidence,  by 
explaining  the  results  I  hope  to  obtain  from  a  grand  experi- 
ment that  I  have  just  planned,  you  would  see  then " 

"  I  see  nothing  but  our  ruin,"  she  said,  rising  to  go. 

The  next  day  was  a  holiday  at  the  College  de  Douai. 
Emmanuel  de  Solis  came  with  Jean  to  see  them. 

"  Well? "  he  asked  anxiously,  as  he  went  up  to  Marguerite. 

"  I  gave  way,"  she  said. 

"My  dear  life,"  he  answered,  half-sorrowfully,  half-gladly, 
"  if  you  had  not  yielded,  I  should  have  admired  you,  but  I 
adore  you  for  your  weakness." 

"  Poor,  poor  Emmanuel !  what  remains  for  us? " 

"  Leave  everything  to  me,"  he  cried,  with  a  radiant  glance. 
"  We  love  each  other;  it  will  be  well  with  us." 

Several  months  went  by  in  unbroken  peace.  M.  de  Solis 
made  Marguerite  see  that  her  retrenchments  and  petty  econo- 


172  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

mies  were  absolutely  useless,  and  advised  her  to  live  comfort- 
ably, and  to  use  the  remainder  of  the  money  which  Mme. 
Claes  had  deposited  with  him  for  the  expenses  of  the  house- 
hold. All  through  those  months  Marguerite  was  harassed  by 
the  anxiety  which  had  proved  too  heavy  a  burden  for  her 
mother ;  for,  little  as  she  was  disposed  to  believe  in  her 
father's  promises,  she  was  driven  to  hope  in  his  genius.  It  is 
a  strange  and  inexplicable  thing  that  we  so  often  continue  to 
hope  when  we  have  no  faith  left.  Hope  is  the  flower  of  desire, 
and  faith  is  the  fruit  of  certainty. 

"If  my  father  succeeds,  we  shall  be  happy,"  Marguerite 
told  herself;  Claes  and  Le  Mulquinier  said,  "  We  shall  suc- 
ceed !  "  but  Claes  and  Le  Mulquinier  were  alone  in  their  belief. 
Unluckily,  Balthazar  grew  more  and  more  depressed  day  by 
day.  Sometimes  he  did  not  dare  to  meet  his  daughter's  eyes 
at  dinner ;  sometimes,  on  the  other  hand,  he  looked  at  her  in 
triumph.  Marguerite  spent  her  evenings  in  seeking  explana- 
tions of  legal  difficulties,  with  young  de  Solis  as  her  tutor  ; 
she  was  always  asking  her  father  about  their  complicated 
family  relationships.  At  last  her  masculine  education  was 
complete ;  she  was  ready  with  plans  to  put  into  execution  if 
her  father  should  once  more  be  worsted  in  the  duel  with  his 
antagonist — the  Unknown  X. 

About  the  beginning  of  July,  Balthazar  spent  a  whole  day 
on  a  bench  in  the  garden,  absorbed  in  sad  thoughts.  Once 
and  again  he  looked  about  him,  at  the  bare  garden  beds, 
which  had  once  been  gay  with  tulips,  at  the  windows  of  his 
wife's  room,  and  shuddered,  doubtless  at  the  recollection  of 
all  that  this  quest  had  cost  him.  He  stirred  from  time  to 
time,  and  it  was  plain  that  he  thought  of  other  things  than 
science.  Just  before  dinner,  Marguerite  took  up  her  needle- 
work, and  came  out  to  sit  beside  him  for  a  few  minutes. 

"Well,  father,  you  have  not  succeeded?" 

"  No,  my  child." 

"  Ah  !  "  Marguerite  said  gently,  "  I  am  not  going  to  utter 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  173 

a  word  of  reproach  ;  indeed,  we  are  both  equally  to  blame  ; 
but  I  must  claim  the  fulfillment  of  your  promise ;  your  promise 
is  surely  sacred — you  are  a  Claes.  Your  children  will  never 
show  you  anything  but  love  and  respect ;  but  from  to-day  you 
are  in  my  hands,  and  must  do  as  I  wish.  Do  not  be  anxious ; 
my  rule  will  be  mild,  and  I  will  do  my  best  to  bring  it  quickly 
to  an  end.  I  am  going  to  leave  you  for  a  month — Martha  is 
going  with  me — so  that  I  may  see  after  your  affairs,"  she 
added,  with  a  kiss,  "  for  you  are  my  child  now,  you  know. 
So  Felicie  will  be  left  in  charge.  Poor  child !  she  is  barely 
seventeen  ;  how  can  she  resist  you  ?  Be  generous,  and  do  not 
ask  her  for  a  penny,  for  she  has  nothing  beyond  what  is  strictly 
necessary  for  the  housekeeping  expenses.  Take  courage ;  give 
up  your  investigations  and  your  theories  for  two  or  three 
years,  your  ideas  will  mature,  and  by  that  time  I  shall  have 
saved  the  necessary  money,  and  the  problem  shall  be  solved. 
Now,  then,  tell  me,  is  not  your  queen  a  kind  and  merciful 
sovereign?" 

"  So  all  is  not  yet  lost !  "  the  old  man  answered. 

"  No,  if  you  will  only  keep  your  word." 
v  'I  will  obey  you,  Marguerite,"  said  Claes,  deeply  moved. 

Next  morning  M.  Conyncks  came  from  Cambrai  for  his 
grand-niece.  He  had  come  in  his  traveling  carriage,  and  only 
stayed  in  his  cousin's  house  until  Marguerite  and  Martha  could 
complete  the  preparations  for  their  journey.  M.  Claes  made 
his  cousin  welcome,  but  he  was  evidently  downcast  and 
humiliated.  Old  M.  Conyncks  guessed  Balthazar's  thoughts; 
and  as  they  sat  at  breakfast,  he  said,  with  clumsy  frankness — 

"  I  have  a  few  of  your  pictures,  cousin  ;  I  have  a  liking  for 
a  good  picture ;  it  is  a  ruinous  mania,  but  we  all  have  our 
weaknesses ' ' 

"  Dear  uncle,"  remonstrated  Marguerite. 

"  They  say  you  are  ruined,  cousin  ;  but  a  Claes  always  has 
treasures  here,"  he  said,  tapping  his  forehead,  "and  here 
too,  has  he  not?"  he  added,  laying  his  hand  on  his  heart. 


174  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

"I  believe  in  you,  moreover,  and  having  a  few  spare  crowns 
in  my  purse,  I  am  using  them  in  your  service." 

"Ah!"  cried  Balthazar,  "I  will  repay  you  with  treas- 
ures." 

"The  only  treasures  we  have  in  Flanders,  cousin,  are  pa- 
tience and  hard  work,"  said  Conyncks  sternly.  Our  ancestor 
there  has  the  two  words  graven  on  his  forehead,"  he  added, 
as  he  pointed  to  the  portrait  of  Van  Claes. 

Marguerite  kissed  her  father  and  bade  him  good-bye,  gave 
her  last  parting  directions  to  Josette  and  Felicie,  and  set  out 
for  Paris  with  her  great-uncle.  He  was  a  widower  with  one 
daughter,  a  girl  of  twelve,  and  the  owner  of  an  immense  for- 
tune ;  it  was  not  impossible  that  he  might  think  of  marrying 
again,  and  the  good  people  of  Douai  believed  that  Marguerite 
was  destined  to  be  his  second  wife.  Rumors  of  this  great 
match  for  Marguerite  reached  Pierquin's  ears,  and  brought 
him  back  to  the  Maison  Claes.  Considerable  changes  had 
been  wrought  in  the  views  of  that  wide-awake  worthy. 

Society  in  Douai  had  been  divided  for  the  past  two  years 
into  two  hostile  camps.  The  noblesse  formed  one  group,  and 
the  bourgeoisie  the  other;  and,  not  unnaturally,  the  latter 
cordially  hated  the  former.  This  sharp  division,  in  fact, 
was  not  confined  to  Douai ;  it  suddenly  split  France  into 
two  rival  nations,  small  jealous  squabbles  assumed  serious  pro- 
portions and  contributed  not  a  little  to  the  widespread  ac- 
ceptance of  the  Revolution  of  July,  1830.  There  was  a  third 
party  occupying  an  intermediate  position  between  the  ultra- 
Monarchical  and  ultra-Liberal  camps,  to  wit,  the  officials  who 
belonged  socially  to  one  or  other  circle,  but  who,  on  the 
downfall  of  the  Bourbons  from  power,  immediately  became 
neutral.  At  the  outset  of  the  struggle  between  the  noblesse 
and  the  bourgeoisie  the  most  unheard-of  splendor  was  dis- 
played at  coffee  parties.  The  Royalists  made  such  brilliantly 
successful  efforts  to  eclipse  their  Liberal  rivals  that  these  epi- 
curean festivities  were  said  to  have  cost  some  enthusiastic 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE   ABSOLUTE.  175 

politicians  their  lives ;  like  ill-cast  cannon,  they  could  not 
stand  such  practice.  Naturally  the  two  circles  became  more 
and  more  restricted  and  fanatical. 

Pierquin,  though  a  very  wealthy  man  as  provincial  fortunes 
go,  found  himself  excluded  from  the  aristocratic  circle  and 
driven  back  upon  the  bourgeoisie.  His  self-love  had  suffered 
considerably  in  the  process ;  he  had  received  rebuff  upon  re- 
buff;  gradually  the  men  with  whom  he  had  formerly  rubbed 
shoulders  dropped  his  acquaintance.  He  was  forty  years  of 
age,  the  limit  of  time  when  a  man  who  contemplates  marriage 
can  think  of  taking  a  young  wife.  The  matches  to  which  he 
might  aspire  were  among  the  bourgeoisie,  but  his  ambition 
looked  longingly  back  towards  the  aristocratic  world  from 
which  he  had  been  thrust,  and  he  cast  about  for  a  creditable 
alliance  which  should  reinstate  him  there.  The  Claes  family 
lived  so  much  out  of  the  world  that  they  knew  nothing  of  all 
these  social  changes.  Claes,  indeed,  belonged  by  birth  to 
the  old  aristocracy  of  the  province,  but  it  seemed  not  at  all 
likely  that,  absorbed  as  he  was  by  scientific  interests,  he  would 
share  in  the  recently  introduced  class  prejudices.  However 
poor  she  might  be,  a  daughter  of  the  house  of  Claes  would 
bring  with  her  the  dower  of  gratified  vanity,  which  is  eagerly 
coveted  by  all  parvenues. 

Pierquin,  therefore,  renewed  his  visits  to  the  Maison  Claes. 
He  had  made  up  his  mind  to  this  marriage,  and  to  attain  his 
social  ambitions  at  all  costs.  He  bestowed  his  company  on 
Balthazar  and  Felicie  in  Marguerite's  absence,  and  discovered, 
rather  late  in  the  day,  that  he  had  a  formidable  rival  in  Em- 
manuel de  Solis.  Emmanuel's  late  uncle  the  Abbe  had  left 
his  nephew  no  inconsiderable  amount  of  property,  it  was 
said  ;  and  in  the  eyes  of  the  notary,  who  looked  at  everything 
from  an  undisguisedly  material  standpoint,  Emmanuel  in  the 
character  of  his  uncle's  heir  was  a  rival  to  be  dreaded  :  Pier- 
quin was  more  disquieted  by  Emmanuel's  money  than  by  his 
attractive  personality.  Wealth  restored  all  its  lustre  to  the 


176  THE    QUEST  OF   THE  ABSOLUTE. 

name  of  de  Soils.  Gold  and  noble  birth  were  twin  glories 
that  reflected  splendor  upon  each  other.  The  notary  saw  that 
the  young  headmaster  treated  Felicie  as  a  sister,  and  he 
became  jealous  of  this  sincere  affection.  He  tried  to  eclipse 
Emmanuel,  mingling  conventional  phrases  of  gallantry  with 
the  small  talk  of  the  day,  and  the  airs  of  a  man  of  fashion 
with  the  dreamy,  pensive  melancholy  which  was  not  ill  suited 
to  his  face.  He  had  lost  all  his  illusions,  he  said,  and  turned 
his  eyes  on  Felicie  as  if  to  let  her  know  that  she,  and  she 
alone,  could  reconcile  him  with  life.  And  Felicie,  to  whom 
compliments  and  flattery  were  a  novelty,  listened  to  the 
language  which  is  always  sweet  to  hear,  even  when  it  is  insin- 
cere ;  she  mistook  his  emptiness  for  depth ;  she  had  nothing 
to  occupy  her  mind,  and  her  cousin  became  the  object  of  the 
vague  sentiments  that  filled  her  heart.  Possibly,  though  she 
herself  was  not  conscious  of  the  fact,  she  was  jealous  of  the 
attentions  which  Emmanuel  showed  her  sister,  and  she  wished 
to  be  likewise  some  man's  first  thought.  Pierquin  soon  saw 
that  Felicie  showed  more  attention  to  him  than  to  Emmanuel, 
and  this  encouraged  him  to  persist  in  his  attempt,  until  he 
went  farther  than  he  had  intended.  Emmanuel  looked  on, 
watching  the  beginning  of  this  passion,  simulated  in  the  law- 
yer, artlessly  sincere  in  Felicie,  whose  future  was  at  stake. 
Whispered  phrases  were  exchanged  between  the  cousins  when 
Emmanuel's  back  was  turned,  little  colloquies,  trifling  decep- 
tions, which  gave  to  the  stolen  words  and  glances  a  treacherous 
sweetness  that  might  give  rise  to  innocent  errors. 

Pierquin  hoped  and  intended  to  turn  his  intimacy  with 
Felicie  to  his  own  account,  and  to  discover  Marguerite's 
reasons  for  taking  the  journey  to  Paris  ;  he  wanted  to  know 
whether  there  was  any  question  of  her  marriage,  and  whether 
he  must  renounce  his  pretensions ;  but,  in  spite  of  his  trans- 
parent manoeuvres,  neither  Balthazar  nor  Felicie  could  throw 
any  light  on  the  subject,  for  the  very  sufficient  reason  that 
they  themselves  knew  nothing  of  Marguerite's  plans  ;  on  her 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  177 

accession  to  power  she  seemed  to  have  adopted  the  maxims  of 
statecraft,  and  had  kept  her  own  counsel. 

Balthazar's  brooding  melancholy  and  depression  made  the 
evenings  tedious.  Emmanuel  had  succeeded  in  persuading 
him  to  play  at  backgammon,  but  Balthazar's  thoughts  were 
elsewhere  all  the  while ;  and,  as  a  rule,  the  great  chemist, 
with  all  his  intellectual  powers,  seemed  positively  stupid.  His 
expectations  had  come  to  nothing  ;  his  humiliation  was  great ; 
he  had  squandered  three  fortunes  ;  he  was  a  penniless  gambler ; 
he  was  crushed  beneath  the  ruins  of  his  house,  beneath  the 
burden  of  hopes  that  were  disappointed  but  not  extinct.  The 
man  of  genius,  curbed  by  necessity,  acquiescing  in  his  own 
condemnation,  was  a  tragic  spectacle  which  would  have 
touched  the  most  unfeeling  nature.  Pierquin  himself  could 
not  but  feel  an  involuntary  respect  for  this  caged  lion  with 
the  look  of  baffled  power  in  the  eyes  which  were  calm  by 
reason  of  despair,  and  faded  from  excess  of  light ;  there  was 
a  mute  entreaty  for  charity  in  them  which  the  lips  did  not 
dare  to  frame.  Sometimes  his  face  suddenly  lighted  up  as  he 
devised  a  new  experiment ;  and  then  Balthazar's  eyes  would 
travel  round  the  room  to  the  spot  where  his  wife  had  died, 
and  tears  like  burning  grains  of  sand  would  cross  the  arid 
pupils  of  his  eyes,  grown  over-large  with  thought,  and  his 
head  would  drop  on  his  breast.  He  had  lifted  the  world  like 
a  Titan,  and  the  world  had  rolled  back  heavily  on  his  breast. 
This  giant  sorrow,  controlled  so  manfully,  had  its  effect  on 
Pierquin  and  Emmanuel,  who  at  times  felt  so  much  moved 
by  it  that  they  were  ready  to  offer  him  a  sum  of  money 
sufficient  for  another  series  of  experiments — so  infectious  are 
the  convictions  of  genius  !  Both  young  men  began  to  under- 
stand how  Mme.  Claes  and  Marguerite  could  have  flung 
millions  into  the  abyss ;  but  reflection  checked  the  impulses 
of  their  hearts,  and  their  good-will  manifested  itself  in  attempts 
at  consolation  which  increased  the  anguish  of  the  fallen  and 
stricken  Titan. 
12 


178  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

Claes  never  mentioned  his  oldest  daughter,  showed  no 
uneasiness  at  her  prolonged  absence,  and  did  not  appear  to 
notice  her  silence,  for  she  wrote  neither  to  him  nor  to  Felicie. 
He  seemed  to  be  displeased  if  Solis  or  Pierquin  asked  him  for 
news  of  her.  Did  he  suspect  that  Marguerite  was  plotting 
against  him  ?  Did  he  feel  himself  lowered  in  his  own  eyes 
now  that  he  had  abdicated  and  made  over  his  rights  as  a 
father  to  his  child  ?  Had  he  come  to  love  her  less  because 
they  had  changed  places  ?  Perhaps  all  these  things  counted 
for  something,  and  mingled  with  other  and  vaguer  feelings 
which  overclouded  his  soul ;  he  chose  to  say  nothing  of  Mar- 
guerite, as  though  she  were  in  some  sort  of  disgrace. 

Great  men,  however  great,  known  or  unknown,  lucky  or 
unlucky  in  their  endeavors,  are  still  human,  and  have  their 
weaknesses.  Unluckily,  too,  they  are  condemned  to  suffer 
doubly,  for  their  qualities  as  well  as  for  their  defects;  and 
perhaps  Balthazar  was  as  yet  unused  to  the  pangs  of  a 
wounded  vanity.  The  days,  the  evenings  which  all  four 
spent  together,  were  full  of  melancholy,  and  overshadowed 
by  vague,  uneasy  apprehensions,  while  Marguerite  was  away. 
They  were  days  like  a  barren  waste ;  they  were  not  utterly 
without  consolations,  a  few  flowers  bloomed  here  and  there 
for  them  to  pluck,  but  the  house  seemed  to  be  shrouded  in 
gloom  in  the  absence  of  the  oldest  daughter,  who  had  come 
to  be  its  life  and  hope  and  strength.  In  this  way  two  months 
went  by,  and  Balthazar  patiently  awaited  his  daughter's  return. 

Marguerite  came  back  to  Douai  with  her  uncle,  who  did 
not  immediately  return  to  Cambrai.  Doubtless  he  meant  to 
give  support  to  his  niece  in  an  impending  crisis.  Marguerite's 
return  was  the  occasion  of  a  small  family  rejoicing.  The 
notary  and  M.  de  Solis  had  been  invited  to  dinner  by  Felicie 
and  Balthazar ;  and  when  the  traveling  carriage  stopped  be- 
fore the  door  of  the  house,  all  four  appeared  to  receive  the 
travelers  with  great  demonstrations  of  joy.  Marguerite 
seemed  glad  to  be  at  home  in  her  father's  house  again  ;  tears 


THE  QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.       179 

filled  her  eyes  as  she  crossed  the  courtyard  and  went  to  the 
parlor.  As  she  put  her  arms  round  her  father's  neck, 
other  thoughts  had  mingled  with  the  girl's  kiss,  and  she 
blushed  like  a  guilty  wife  who  cannot  dissemble ;  but  when 
she  saw  Emmanuel,  the  troubled  look  died  out  of  her  eyes, 
the  sight  of  him  seemed  to  give  her  courage  for  the  task  she 
had  secretly  set  herself.  In  spite  of  the  cheerfulness  on  every 
face  and  the  gaiety  of  the  talk  at  dinner,  father  and  daughter 
studied  each  other  with  distrust  and  curiosity.  Balthazar  did 
not  ask  Marguerite  a  single  question  as  to  her  stay  in  Paris, 
paternal  dignity  doubtless  prevented  him  ;  Emmanuel  de  Solis 
was  equally  discreet ;  but  Pierquin,  who  had  so  long  been 
acquainted  with  all  the  secrets  of  the  family,  did  not  avoid 
the  subject,  and  concealed  his  inquisitiveness  under  an  assump- 
tion of  geniality. 

"Well,  dear  cousin,"  he  said,  "did  you  see  Paris,  and  the 
theatres ?" 

"I  saw  nothing  of  Paris,"  she  answered;  "I  only  went 
out  when  I  was  obliged  to  go.  The  days  went  by  very  tedi- 
ously for  me ;  I  was  longing  to  see  Douai  again." 

"  If  I  had  not  made  a  fuss,  she  would  not  have  gone  to  the 
opera;  and  when  she  did,  she  found  it  tiresome!  "  said  M. 
Conyncks. 

None  of  them  felt  at  their  ease  that  evening,  the  smiles 
were  constrained,  a  painful  anxiety  lurked  beneath  the  forced 
gaiety ;  it  was  a  trying  occasion.  Marguerite  and  Balthazar 
were  both  tortured  by  doubts  and  fears,  and  the  others  seemed 
to  feel  this.  As  the  evening  wore  on,  the  faces  of  the  father 
and  daughter  betrayed  their  agitation  more  plainly;  and 
though  Marguerite  did  her  best  to  smile,  her  nervous  move- 
ments, her  glances,  the  tones  of  her  voice,  betrayed  her.  M. 
Conyncks  and  Emmanuel  de  Solis  seemed  to  understand  the 
noble  girl's  agitation,  and  to  bid  her  take  courage  by  expres- 
sive glances  ;  and  Balthazar,  hurt  at  not  being  taken  into  con- 
fidence while  steps  were  taken  and  matters  decided  which 


180  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

concerned  him,  gradually  became  more  and  more  reserved, 
and  at  last  sat  silent  among  his  children  and  friends.  Shortly, 
no  doubt,  Marguerite  would  inform  him  of  her  decisions. 
For  a  great  man  and  a  father  the  situation  was  intolerable. 

Balthazar  had  reached  the  time  of  life  when  things  are 
usually  freely  discussed  with  the  children  of  the  family,  when 
capacity  for  feeling  is  increased  by  wider  experience  of  life ; 
his  face  grew  graver,  more  thoughtful,  and  troubled  as  the 
time  of  his  extinction  as  a  citizen  drew  nearer. 

A  crisis  in  the  family  life  was  impending,  a  crisis  of  which 
some  idea  can  only  be  given  by  a  metaphor.  The  clouds  that 
bore  a  thunderbolt  in  their  midst  had  gathered  and  darkened 
the  sky,  while  they  laughed  below  in  the  fields ;  every  one 
felt  the  heat  and  the  coming  storm,  looked  up  at  the  heavens, 
and  hurried  on  his  way. 

M.  Conyncks  was  the  first  to  go,  Balthazar  went  with  him 
to  his  room,  and  Pierquin  and  Emmanuel  took  their  leave  in 
his  absence.  Marguerite  bade  the  notary  a  friendly  good- 
night ;  she  said  nothing  to  Emmanuel,  but  she  clasped  his 
hand  tightly,  and  the  tears  stood  in  her  eyes  as  she  looked  at 
him.  She  sent  Felicie  away,  and  when  Claes  came  back  to 
the  parlor  she  was  sitting  there  alone. 

"  My  kind  father,"  she  said  in  a  tremulous  voice,  "  I  could 
not  have  brought  myself  to  leave  home  but  for  the  gravity  of 
our  position  ;  but  now,  after  agonies  of  hope  and  fear,  and  in 
spite  of  unheard-of  difficulties,  I  have  brought  back  with  me 
some  chance  of  salvation  for  us  all.  Thanks  partly  to  your 
name,  partly  to  our  uncle's  influence,  and  the  interest  of  M. 
de  Solis,  we  have  obtained  the  post  of  Receiver  of  Taxes  in 
Brittany  for  you ;  it  is  worth  eighteen  to  twenty  thousand 
francs  a  year,  they  say.  Our  uncle  has  undertaken  to  be 
security  for  you.  Here  is  your  appointment,"  she  added, 
drawing  a  paper  fromlher  reticule.  "For  the  next  few  years 
we  must  retrench  and  be  content  with  bare  necessaries;  you 
would  find  it  intolerable  to  live  on  here  in  the  house ;  our 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  181 

father  ought  at  least  to  live  as  he  has  always  been  accustomed 
to  live.  I  shall  not  ask  you  to  spare  any  of  your  income  for 
us ;  you  will  spend  it  as  seems  good  to  you.  But  I  entreat 
you  to  remember  that  we  have  no  income,  not  a  penny  except 
from  the  amount  invested  in  the  funds  for  Gabriel — he  always 
sends  the  interest  to  us.  We  will  live  as  if  the  house  were  a 
convent ;  no  one  in  the  town  shall  hear  anything  about  our 
economies.  If  you  lived  on  here  in  Douai,  you  would  be  a 
positive  hindrance  to  us  in  our  efforts  to  restore  comfort.  Am 
I  abusing  the  authority  you  gave  to  me  when  I  put  you  in  a 
position  to  re-establish  your  fortune  yourself?  In  a  few  years' 
time,  if  you  choose,  you  will  be  Receiver-General." 

"  So,  Marguerite,"  Balthazar  said  in  a  low  voice,  "you  are 
driving  me  out  of  my  house " 

"  I  did  not  deserve  such  a  bitter  reproach,"  said  Marguerite, 
controlling  the  emotions  that  surged  up  in  her  heart.  "  You 
will  come  back  again  among  us  as  soon  as  you  can  live  in  your 
native  town  in  a  manner  befitting  your  name.  Besides,  did 
you  not  give  me  your  promise,  father?  "  she  went  on  coldly. 
"  You  must  do  what  I  ask  of  you.  Our  uncle  is  waiting  to 
go  with  you  to  Brittany,  so  that  you  may  not  have  to  travel 
alone." 

"I  shall  not  go !  "  cried  Balthazar,  rising  to  his  feet;  "I 
stand  in  need  of  no  one's  assistance  to  re-establish  my  fortune 
and  to  pay  all  that  is  owing  to  my  children." 

"You  had  better  go,"  said  Marguerite,  with  no  sign  of 
agitation  in  her  manner.  "  I  ask  you  simply  to  think  over 
our  respective  positions.  I  can  put  the  case  before  you  in  a 
very  few  words ;  if  you  stay  in  the  house,  your  children  will 
go  out  of  it,  that  you  may  be  the  master." 

"  Marguerite  !  "  cried  Balthazar. 

"  And  the  next  thing  to  do,"  she  went  on,  without  heeding 
her  father's  anger,  "  will  be  to  inform  the  minister  of  your 
refusal  to  accept  a  lucrative  and  honorable  post.  We  should 
never  have  obtained  it,  in  spite  of  interest  and  influence,  if 


182  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

our  uncle  had  not  adroitly  slipped  several  notes  for  a  thousand 
francs  into  a  certain  lady's  glove " 

"  All  of  you  will  leave  me  !  " 

"Yes.  If  you  do  not  leave  us,  we  must  leave  you,"  she 
answered.  "  If  I  were  your  only  child,  I  would  follow  my 
mother's  example ;  I  would  not  murmur  at  my  fate,  whatever 
you  might  bring  upon  me.  But  my  brothers  and  sister  shall 
not  die  of  hunger  and  despair  under  your  eyes;  I  promised 
this  to  her  who  died  there,"  she  said,  pointing  to  her  mother's 
bed.  "  We  have  hidden  our  troubles  from  you,  and  endured 
them  in  silence,  but  our  strength  fails  us  now.  We  are  not  on 
the  brink  of  a  precipice ;  we  are  in  its  lowest  depths,  father  ! 
And  if  we  are  to  extricate  ourselves,  we  want  something  be- 
sides courage  ;  all  our  efforts  must  not  be  continually  thwarted 
by  the  freaks  of  a  passion ' ' 

"  My  dear  children  !  "  cried  Balthazar,  seizing  Marguerite's 
hand,  "  I  will  help  you  ;  I  will  work  with  you  ;  I — 

"  This  is  the  way,"  she  answered,  holding  out  the  minister's 
letter. 

"  But,  my  darling,  it  would  take  too  long  to  restore  my 
fortune  in  this  way  that  you  are  pointing  out  to  me.  The 
results  of  ten  years  of  work  will  be  lost,  as  well  as  the  enor- 
mous sums  of  money  which  the  laboratory  represents.  Our 
resources  are  up  there,"  he  said,  indicating  the  garret. 

Marguerite  went  towards  the  door,  saying,  "  Choose  for 
yourself,  father!  " 

"Ah  !  my  daughter,  you  are  very  hard  !  "  he  answered,  as 
he  sat  down  in  an  armchair;  but  he  let  her  go. 

Next  morning  Marguerite  learned  from  Le  Mulquinier  that 
M.  Claes  had  gone  out.  She  turned  pale  at  this  simple  an- 
nouncement, and  her  face  spoke  so  eloquently  of  cruel  anxiety 
that  the  old  servant  said,  "Do  not  alarm  yourself,  mademoi- 
selle ;  the  master  said  he  would  come  back  again  at  eleven 
o'clock  to  breakfast.  He  never  went  to  bed  at  all  last  night. 
At  two  o'clock  this  morning  he  was  standing  by  one  of  the 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  183 

windows  in  the  parlor  looking  out  at  the  roof  of  the  laboratory. 
I  was  sitting  up,  waiting  in  the  kitchen ;  I  saw  him,  he  was 
crying,  he  is  in  trouble ;  and  here  is  the  famous  month  of 
July  again,  when  the  sun  has  power  enough  to  make  us  all 
rich,  and  if  you  only " 

"  That  is  enough  !  "  said  Marguerite.  She  knew  now  what 
the  thoughts  were  that  had  harassed  her  father. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  had  come  to  pass  with  Balthazar,  as 
with  all  domestic  people,  that  his  life  was  inseparable,  as  it 
were,  from  the  places  which  had  become  a  part  of  it.  His 
thoughts  were  wedded  to  his  house  and  laboratory;  he  did 
not  know  how  to  do  without  the  familiar  surroundings;  he 
was  like  a  speculator,  who  is  at  a  loss  to  know  what  to  do 
with  himself  on  public  holidays  when  he  cannot  go  on  'Change. 
All  his  hopes  dwelt  there  in  his  laboratory ;  it  was  the  one 
spot  under  heaven  where  he  could  breathe  vital  air.  This 
clinging  to  familiar  things  and  places,  so  strong  an  instinct  in 
weak  natures,  becomes  almost  tyrannous  in  men  of  science 
and  learning.  Balthazar  Claes  was  to  leave  his  house';  for 
him  this  meant  that  he  must  renounce  his  science  and  his 
problem,  or,  in  other  words,  that  he  must  die. 

Marguerite  was  in  the  last  extremity  of  anxiety  and  fear 
until  breakfast-time.  The  thought  of  Balthazar's  attempt  to 
take  his  life  after  a  similar  scene  came  to  her  memory,  and  she 
feared  that  her  father  had  found  a  tragic  solution  of  his  diffi- 
culties ;  she  walked  up  and  down  in  the  parlor,  and  shuddered 
every  time  the  bell  rang  at  the  door.  Balthazar  at  last  came 
back.  Marguerite  watched  him  cross  the  court,  and,  gazing 
anxiously  at  his  face,  could  read  nothing  but  the  traces  of  all 
that  storm  of  grief  in  its  expression.  When  he  came  into  the 
parlor  she  went  up  to  him  to  wish  him  good-morning ;  he  put 
his  arms  affectionately  about  her  waist,  drew  her  to  his  breast, 
kissed  her  forehead,  and  said  in  her  ear — 

"  I  have  been  to  see  about  my  passport." 

The  tones  of  her  father's  voice,  his  resignation,  his  caress 


184  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

almost  broke  poor  Marguerite's  heart ;  she  turned  her  head 
away  to  hide  the  tears  which  she  could  not  keep  back,  fled 
into  the  garden,  and  only  came  back  when  she  had  wept  at 
her  ease.  During  breakfast  Balthazar  was  in  great  spirits,  like 
a  man  who  has  decided  on  his  course. 

"  So  we  are  to  start  for  Brittany,  uncle,  are  we?  "  he  said 
to  M.  Conyncks.  "  I  have  always  thought  I  should  like  to 
see  Brittany." 

"Living  is  cheap  there,"  the  old  uncle  remarked. 

" Is  father  going  to  leave  us? "  cried  Felicie. 

M.  de  Solis  came  in  with  Jean  at  that  moment. 

"You  will  let  him  spend  the  day  with  us,"  said  Balthazar, 
as  Jean  came  to  sit  beside  him ;  "  I  am  going  away  to-morrow, 
and  I  want  to  bid  him  good-bye." 

Emmanuel  looked  across  at  Marguerite,  who  hung  her  head. 
It  was  a  melancholy  day ;  every  one  felt  sad  ;  every  one  tried 
not  to  give  way  to  painful  thoughts  or  to  tears.  This  was  no 
ordinary  parting ;  it  was  an  exile.  And  then,  every  one  in- 
stinctively felt  how  humiliating  it  was  for  a  father  thus  to 
proclaim  his  losses  by  leaving  his  family  and  accepting  the 
post  of  a  paid  official  at  Balthazar's  time  of  life ;  but  he  was 
as  magnanimous  as  Marguerite  was  firm,  and  submitted  with 
dignity  to  the  penance  imposed  on  him  for  the  errors  which 
he  had  committed  when  carried  away  by  his  genius.  When 
the  evening  was  over,  and  the  father  and  daughter  were  alone, 
Balthazar  held  out  his  hand  to  Marguerite.  He  had  been 
as  gentle  and  affectionate  all  through  the  day  as  in  the  happiest 
days  of  the  past;  and  with  a  strange  tenderness,  in  which 
despair  was  mingled,  he  asked,  "Are  you  satisfied  with  your 
father?" 

"You  are  worthy  of  him"  answered  Marguerite,  turning  to 
the  portrait  of  Van  Claes. 

Next  morning  Balthazar,  followed  by  Le  Mulquiner,  went 
into  his  laboratory  to  take  leave  of  his  cherished  hopes. 
Master  and  man  exchanged  melancholy  glances  as  they  stood 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  185 

on  the  threshold  of  the  garret.  Everything  was  in  working 
order,  as  though  those  hopes  had  not  yet  perished,  and  they 
were  about  to  leave  it  all,  perhaps  forever.  Balthazar  looked 
round  at  the  apparatus  about  which  his  thoughts  had  hovered 
for  so  long ;  there  was  nothing  there  but  had  its  associations  for 
him,  and  had  borne  a  part  in  his  experiments  or  his  investiga- 
tions. Dejectedly  he  bade  Le  Mulquinier  set  free  the  gases, 
evaporate  the  more  noxious  acids,  and  take  precautions  against 
possible  explosions.  As  he  saw  to  all  these  details,  bitter  regrets 
broke  from  him,  as  from  a  man  condemned  to  death  when 
they  are  about  to  lead  him  to  the  scaffold. 

"Just  look  !  "  he  said,  stopping  before  a  capsule  in  which 
the  two  wires  of  a  voltaic  battery  were  immersed  ;  "  we  ought  to 
wait  to  see  the  result  of  this  experiment.  If  it  were  to  succeed 
my  children  would  not  drive  their  father  from  his  house  when 
he  could  fling  diamonds  at  their  feet.  Hideous  thought ! 
Here  is  a  combination  of  carbon  and  sulphur,  in  which  the 
carbon  plays  the  part  of  an  electro-positive  body ;  crystalliza- 
tion should  commence  at  the  negative  pole,  and  in  the  case 
of  decomposition  the  carbon  would  be  deposited  there  in  a 
crystalline  form." 

"Ah  !  that  is  what  it  will  do  !  "  said  Le  Mulquinier,  look- 
ing admiringly  at  his  master. 

"  But,"  Balthazar  went  on  after  a  moment  of  silence,  "  the 
combination  is  submitted  to  the  influence  of  that  battery 
which  might  act " 


"  If  monsieur  desires  it,  I  will  soon  increase- 


"  No,  no;  it  must  be  left  just  as  it  is.  That  sort  of 
crystallization  requires  time,  and  must  be  left  undisturbed." 

"  Confound  it !  the  crystallization  is  long  enough  about 
it  !  "  cried  the  manservant. 

"  If  the  temperature  were  to  fall,  the  sulphide  of  carbon 
would  crystallize,"  Balthazar  said,  letting  fall  stray  links  of  a 
chain  of  ideas  which  was  complete  in  his  own  mind;  "but 
suppose  the  action  of  the  battery  is  brought  to  bear  on  it 


186  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

under  certain  conditions  which  I  do  not  know  how  to  set  up. 

This  ought  to  be  carefully  watched  ; it  is  possible. 

But  what  am  I  thinking  of?  There  is  to  be  no  more  chem- 
istry for  us,  my  friend ;  we  must  keep  books  in  a  receiver's 
office  somewhere  in  Brittany." 

Claes  hurried  away  and  went  down  stairs  to  breakfast  in  his 
own  house  for  the  last  time.  Pierquin  and  M.  de  Solis  had 
joined  them.  Balthazar  was  anxious  to  put  an  end  to  the 
death-agony  of  science,  said  farewell  to  his  children,  and 
stepped  into  the  carriage  after  his  uncle ;  all  the  family  came 
with  him  to  the  threshold  of  the  door.  There,  as  Marguerite 
clung  to  her  father  in  despair,  he  answered  her  mute  appeal, 
saying  in  her  ear,  "  You  are  a  good  child  ;  I  bear  you  no  ill- 
will,  Marguerite." 

Marguerite  crossed  the  courtyard,  and  took  refuge  in  the 
parlor;  kneeling  on  the  spot  where  her  mother  died,  she 
made  a  fervent  prayer  to  God  to  give  her  strength  to  bring 
the  heavy  task  of  her  new  life  to  a  successful  end.  She  felt 
stronger  already,  for  an  inner  voice  echoed  the  applause  of 
angels  through  her  heart,  and  with  it  mingled  the  thanks  of 
her  mother,  her  sister,  and  brothers.  Emmanuel  and  Pier- 
quin came  in  ;  they  had  watched  the  traveling  carriage  till  it 
was  out  of  sight. 

"Now,  mademoiselle,  what  will  you  do  next !  "  inquired 
Pierquin. 

"Save  the  family,"  she  said  simply.  "We  have  about 
thirteen  hundred  acres  of  land  at  Waignies.  I  mean  to  have 
it  cleared,  and  to  divide  it  up  into  three  farms,  to  erect  the 
necessary  farm  buildings,  and  then  to  let  them.  I  feel  sure 
that  in  a  few  years'  time,  with  plenty  of  patience  and  prudence, 
each  of  us  three,"  she  said,  turning  to  her  brother  and  sister, 
"  will  possess  a  farm  of  about  four  hundred  acres,  which  some 
day  or  other  will  bring  us  in  fifteen  thousand  francs  yearly. 
My  brother  Gabriel's  share  must  be  this  house  and  the  consols 
that  stand  in  his  name.  Then  we  will  pay  off  our  father's 


THE    QUEST  OF    THE  ABSOLUTE.  187 

debts  by  degrees,  and  give  him  back  his  estates  when  the  time 
comes." 

"But,  dear  cousin,"  said  Pierquin,  amazed  at  Marguerite's 
clear-headedness  and  calm  summing-up  of  the  situation,  "  you 
will  want  more  than  two  hundred  thousand  francs  if  you  are 
going  to  clear  the  land  and  build  steadings  and  buy  cattle. 
Where  is  the  money  to  come  from?" 

"That  is  just  where  the  difficulty  comes  in,"  she  said, 
looking  from  the  lawyer  to  Emmanuel  de  Solis;  "  I  cannot 
venture  to  ask  any  more  of  my  uncle  ;  he  has  already  become 
security  for  our  father." 

"  You  have  friends  !  "  cried  Pierquin.  It  suddenly  struck 
him  that  even  yet  the  Claes  girls  were  worth  more  than  five 
hundred  thousand  francs  apiece. 

Emmanuel  looked  at  Marguerite  tenderly ;  but  Pierquin, 
unluckily  for  him,  was  still  a  notary  in  the  midst  of  his  enthu- 
siasm. He  answered  accordingly,  "lean  let  you  have  two 
hundred  thousand  francs  !  " 

Emmanuel  and  Marguerite  sought  counsel  of  each  other  by 
a  glance,  a  glance  that  sent  a  ray  of  light  through  Pierquin's 
brain.  Felicie  blushed  up  to  the  eyes ;  she  was  so  glad  that 
her  cousin  had  proved  as  generous  as  she  had  wished.  Mar- 
guerite looked  at  her  sister,  and  guessed  the  truth  at  once ; 
during  her  absence  the  poor  child's  heart  had  been  won  by 
Pierquin's  meaningless  gallantry. 

"You  shall  only  pay  me  five  per  cent.,"  he  added,  "and 
repay  me  when  you  like  ;  you  can  give  me  a  mortgage  on  your 
farms.  But  do  not  trouble  yourself  about  it ;  you  shall  have 
nothing  to  do  but  to  pay  the  money  when  all  the  contracts  are 
completed  ;  I  will  find  you  some  good  tenants,  and  look  after 
everything  for  you.  I  will  do  it  all  for  nothing,  and  stand 
by  you  like  a  trusty  kinsman." 

Emmanuel  made  a  sign  to  Marguerite,  beseeching  her  to 
refuse  this  offer,  but  she  was  too  much  absorbed  in  watching 
the  shades  of  expression  that  crossed  her  sister's  face  to  notice 


188  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

him.  After  a  moment's  silence  she  turned  to  the  lawyer  with 
an  ironical  glance,  and  answered  of  her  own  accord,  to  M.  de 
Solis'  great  joy. 

"  You  have  stood  by  us,  cousin,"  she  said  ;  "I  should  have 
expected  no  less  of  you ;  but  we  want  to  free  the  estates  as 
quickly  as  possible,  and  the  five  per  cent,  interest  would  ham- 
per us ;  I  shall  wait  till  my  brother  comes  of  age,  and  we  will 
sell  his  stock." 

Pierquin  bit  his  lips ;  Emmanuel  began  to  smile  gently. 

"  Felicie,  dear  child,  take  Jean  back  to  school,"  said  Mar- 
guerite, glancing  at  her  brother.  "Take  Martha  with  you. 
Be  very  good,  Jean,  my  darling,  and  do  not  tear  your  clothes; 
we  are  not  rich  enough  now  to  buy  new  ones  for  you  as  often 
as  we  used  to  do.  There,  run  away,  little  man,  and  work 
hard  at  your  lessons." 

Felicie  went  out  with  her  brother. 

"Cousin,"  said  Marguerite  to  Pierquin,  "and  you,  mon- 
sieur," she  added,  turning  to  M.  de  Solis,  "you  have  doubt- 
less come  to  visit  my  father  while  I  was  away?  I  am  grateful 
to  you  for  this  proof  of  your  friendship,  and  I  am  sure  that 
you  will  do  no  less  for  two  poor  girls  who  will  stand  in  need 
of  your  advice.  Let  us  understand  each  other  clearly.  When 
I  am  in  Douai  I  shall  always  see  you  with  the  greatest  pleas- 
sure  ;  but  when  Felicie  will  be  left  here  with  no  one  but 
Josette  and  Martha,  I  need  not  tell  you  that  she  can  receive 
no  visitors,  not  even  an  old  friend  and  a  cousin  so  devoted  to 
our  interests.  In  our  position  we  must  not  give  the  slightest 
occasion  for  gossip.  We  must  give  our  minds  to  our  work  for 
a  long  time  to  come  and  live  in  solitude." 

For  several  moments  no  one  spoke.  Emmanuel,  deeply 
absorbed  in  watching  Marguerite's  face,  was  dumb ;  Pierquin 
was  at  a  loss  what  to  say,  and  took  leave  of  his  cousin.  He 
felt  furious  with  himself;  he  suddenly  perceived  that  Mar- 
querite  loved  Emmanuel,  and  that  he  had  acted  like  the 
veriest  fool. 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  189 

"Look  here,  Pierquin,  my  friend,"  said  he  to  himself,  as 
he  went  along  the  street,  "anyone  who  called  you  an  ass 
would  say  nothing  but  truth.  What  a  stupid  dolt  I  am  !  I 
have  twelve  thousand  livres  a  year  beside  my  professional 
income,  to  say  nothing  of  my  uncle  des  Racquets;  all  his 
money  will  come  to  me  some  of  these  days,  and  I  shall  have 
as  much  again  then  (after  all,  I  don't  want  him  to  die,  he  is 
thrifty),  and  I  was  graceless  enough  to  ask  Mile.  Claes  for 
interest !  No  !  After  all,  Felicie  is  a  sweet  and  good  little 
thing,  who  will  suit  me  better.  Marguerite  has  a  will  like 
iron ;  she  would  want  to  rule  me,  and — she  would  rule  me  ! 
Come,  let  us  show  ourselves  generous,  Pierquin,  let  us  have 
less  of  the  notary.  I  cannot  shake  off  old  habits.  Bless  me ! 
I  will  fall  in  love  with  Felicie,  those  are  my  sentiments,  and  I 
mean  to  stick  to  them.  Goodness,  yes !  She  will  have  a 
farm  of  her  own — four  hundred  and  thirty  acres  of  good 
land,  for  the  soil  at  Waignies  is  rich,  and  before  long  it  will 
bring  in  from  fifteen  to  twenty  thousand  livres  yearly.  My 
uncle  des  Racquets  dies  (poor  old  gentleman !),  I  sell  my 
practice,  and  I  am  a  man  of  leisure  worth  fifty  thousand 
livres  a  year, — fif — ty  thou — sand  livres  !  My  wife  is  a  Claes ; 
I  am  connected  with  several  families  of  distinction.  Diantre  / 
Then  we  shall  see  if  Savaron  de  Savarus,  the  Courtevilles,  and 
Magalhens  will  decline  to  visit  a  Pierquin-Claes-Molina- 
Nourho  !  I  will  be  mayor  of  Douai ;  I  shall  have  the  Cross 
of  the  Legion  of  Honor ;  I  can  be  a  deputy,  nothing  will  be 
beyond  my  reach.  So  look  out,  Pierquin,  my  boy,  and  let 
us  have  no  more  nonsense,  inasmuch  as,  upon  my  honor, 
Felicie — Mademoiselle  Felicie  Van  Claes  is  in  love  with 
you." 

When  the  two  lovers  were  alone,  Emmanuel  held  out  his 
hand,  and  Marguerite  could  not  help  laying  her  right  hand 
in  his.  The  same  impulse  made  them  both  rise  to  their 
feet,  and  turn  to  go  towards  their  bench  in  the  garden ; 
but  in  the  middle  of  the  parlor  her  lover  could  not  control 


190  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

his  joy,  and  in  a  voice  that  trembled  with  emotion,  he  said 
to  Marguerite — 

"I  have  three  hundred  thousand  francs  that  belong  to 
you ' 

"  How  is  that?  "  she  cried;  "did  my  poor  mother  leave 

other  sums  for  us  in  your  keeping  ? No  ? Then  how  is 

this?" 

"Oh!  my  Marguerite,  what  is  mine  is  yours,  is  it  not? 
Were  you  not  the  first  to  say  we  ?  " 

"Dear  Emmanuel  !  "  she  said,  pressing  the  hand  that  she 
still  held,  and  instead  of  going  into  the  garden,  she  sat  down 
in  a  low  chair. 

"It  is  I  who  should  thank  you,"  he  said,  with  love  in  his 
voice,  "since  you  accept  it  from  me." 

"Dear  love,"  she  said,  "this  moment  atones  for  many 
sorrows,  and  brings  us  nearer  to  a  happy  future  !  Yes,  I  will 
accept  your  fortune,"  she  continued,  and  an  angelic  smile 
hovered  about  her  mouth;  "I  know  of  a  way  to  make  it 
mine." 

She  looked  up  at  Van  Claes'  portrait,  as  if  calling  on  her 
ancestor  to  be  a  witness.  Emmanuel  de  Solis  had  followed 
the  direction  of  her  eyes ;  he  did  not  see  her  draw  a  little 
ring  from  her  finger  ;  he  did  not  notice  that  she  had  done  so 
until  he  heard  the  words — 

"  Out  of  the  depths  of  our  sorrow  one  comfort  has  arisen  ; 
my  father's  indifference  leaves  me  free  to  dispose  of  myself," 
she  said,  holding  out  the  ring.  "  Take  it,  Emmanuel ;  my 
mother  loved  you,  she  would  have  chosen  you." 

Tears  came  to  Emmanuel's  eyes ;  he  turned  pale,  fell  on 
his  knees,  and  said  to  Marguerite,  as  he  gave  her  the  ring  that 
he  always  wore — 

"  Here  is  my  mother's  wedding  ring  "  (and  he  kissed  the 
little  golden  hoop).  "  My  Marguerite,  shall  I  have  no  pledge 
but  this?"  he  asked,  pointing  to  the  ring  she  had  given 
him. 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  191 

She  bent  forward,  and  Emmanuel's  lips  touched  her  fore- 
head. 

"Alas!  poor  love,  are  we  not  doing  wrong?"  she  said 
in  a  trembling  voice.  "  We  shall  have  to  wait  for  a  long 
while." 

"My  uncle  used  to  say  that  adoration  was  the  daily  bread 
of  patience ;  he  spoke  of  the  Christian's  love  of  God ;  but 
in  this  way  I  can  love  you,  Marguerite;  for  a  long  while 
the  thought  of  you  has  mingled  with  the  thought  of  God 
so  that  I  cannot  separate  them;  I  am  yours,  as  I  am  His." 

For  a  few  moments  they  remained  rapt  in  the  sweetest 
ecstasy.  Their  feelings  were  poured  out  as  quietly  and  nat- 
urally as  a  spring  wells  up  and  overflows  in  little  waves 
that  never  cease.  The  fate  which  kept  the  two  lovers  apart 
was  a  source  of  melancholy,  which  gave  to  their  happiness 
something  of  the  poignancy  of  grief.  Felicie  came  back 
again,  all  too  soon  for  them.  Emmanuel,  taught  by  the 
charming  tact  of  love,  which  instinctively  divines  everything, 
left  the  two  sisters  together,  with  a  glance  in  which  Marguerite 
could  read  how  much  this  consideration  cost  him — a  glance 
that  told  her  how  long  and  ardently  he  had  desired  this  hap- 
piness which  had  just  been  consecrated  by  the  betrothal  of 
their  hearts. 

"Come  here,  little  sister,"  said  Marguerite,  putting  her 
arm  round  Felicie's  neck.  They  went  together  out  into  the 
garden,  and  sat  down  on  the  bench  to  which  one  generation 
after  another  had  confided  their  love  and  grief,  their  plans 
and  musings.  In  spite  of  her  sister's  gay  tones  and  shrewd, 
kindly  smile,  Felicie  felt  something  very  like  a  tremor  of  fear. 
Marguerite  took  her  hand,  and  felt  that  she  was  trembling. 

"Mademoiselle  Felicie,"  her  older  sister  said  in  her  ear, 
"  I  am  reading  your  heart.  Pierquin  has  been  here  very  often 
while  I  was  away ;  he  came  every  evening,  he  has  whispered 
sweet  words,  and  you  have  listened  to  him." 

Felicie  blushed. 


192  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

"  Do  not  defend  yourself,  my  angel,"  Marguerite  answered ; 
"  it  is  so  natural  to  love !  Perhaps  our  cousin's  character 
may  alter  under  the  influence  of  your  dear  soul ;  he  is  selfish, 
and  thinks  only  of  his  own  interests,  but  he  is  kind-hearted, 
and  his  very  faults  will  no  doubt  conduce  to  your  happiness, 
for  he  will  love  you  as  the  fairest  of  his  possessions,  you  will 
be  a  part  of  his  business  affairs.  Forgive  me  for  that  word, 
darling  !  You  will  cure  him  of  the  bad  habit  of  thinking  of 
nothing  but  material  interests  by  teaching  him  to  occupy  him- 
self with  the  affairs  of  the  heart. ' ' 

Felicie  could  only  put  her  arms  round  her  sister. 

"Besides,"  Marguerite  went  on,  "he  is  well-to-do.  He 
belongs  to  one  of  the  most  distinguished  and  oldest  bourgeois 
families.  And  you  cannot  think  that  I  would  put  obstacles  in 
the  way  of  your  happiness,  if  you  choose  to  find  it  in  a  sphere 
somewhat  beneath  you?  " 

"  Dear  sister  !  "  broke  from  Felicie. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  you  may  trust  me  !  "  cried  Marguerite.  "  What 
more  natural  than  that  we  should  tell  each  other  our  secrets  ?  ' ' 

These  words,  so  heartily  spoken,  opened  the  way  for  one 
of  those  delightful  talks  in  which  young  girls  confide  every- 
thing to  each  other.  Love  had  made  Marguerite  quick  to 
read  her  sister's  heart,  and  she  said  at  last  to  Felicie — 

"  Well,  dear  little  one,  we  must  make  sure  that  the  cousin 
really  loves  you,  and  then " 

"Leave  it  to  me,"  said  Felicie,  laughing;  "I  have  an 
example  here  before  me." 

"Little  goose !  "  said  Marguerite,  kissing  her  forehead. 

Pierquin  belonged  to  the  class  of  men  who  regard  marriage 
as  a  business  contract,  a  fulfillment  of  social  duties,  and  a  way 
of  transmitting  property ;  it  was  to  him  a  matter  of  indiffer- 
ence whether  he  married  Marguerite  or  Felicie,  so  long  as 
both  bore  the  same  family  name  and  possessed  the  same 
amount  of  dower;  yet  he  was  acute  enough  to  see  that  both 
of  them,  to  use  his  own  expression,  were  "  romantic  and  sen- 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  193 

timental  girls,"  two  adjectives  employed  by  commonplace 
people  to  ridicule  the  gifts  which  nature  sows  with  a  grudging 
hand  in  the  furrows  of  the  human  field.  Doubtless  the  lawyer 
concluded  that  he  had  best  do  at  Rome  as  the  Romans  do ; 
for  the  next  day  he  came  to  see  Marguerite,  and  with  a  mys- 
terious air  took  her  out  into  the  little  garden  and  began  to 
talk  "sentiment,"  since  this  was  a  necessary  preliminary, 
according  to  social  usages,  to  the  usual  formal  contract  drawn 
up  by  a  lawyer. 

"  Dear  cousin,"  said  he,  "we  have  not  always  been  of  one 
mind  as  to  the  best  means  of  bringing  you  out  of  your  diffi- 
culties, but  you  must  acknowledge  that  I  have  always  been 
prompted  by  a  strong  desire  to  serve  you.  Well,  then,  yester- 
day my  offer  of  help  was  completely  spoiled  by  an  unlucky 
trick  of  speaking,  due  simply  to  a  lawyer's  habit  of  mind. 
Do  you  understand  ?  My  heart  is  not  to  blame  for  the  absurd 
piece  of  folly.  I  have  cared  very  much  about  you,  and  we 
lawyers  have  a  certain  quick-sightedness ;  I  saw  that  you  did 
not  like  what  I  said.  It  is  my  own  fault !  Some  one  else  has 
been  cleverer  than  I  was.  Well,  I  have  come  to  tell  you  out 
and  out  that  I  love  your  sister  Felicie.  So  you  can  treat  me 
as  a  brother,  dip  in  my  purse,  take  what  you  will ;  the  more 
you  take,  the  better  you  will  prove  your  regard  for  me.  I  am 
wholly  at  your  service,  without  interest — do  you  understand  ? 
— of  any  sort  or  description.  If  only  I  may  be  thought 
worthy  of  Felicie,  that  is  all  I  ask.  Forgive  me  for  my 
mistakes,  they  are  due  to  business  habits ;  my  heart  is  right 
enough,  and  I  would  throw  myself  into  the  Scarpe  rather  than 
not  make  my  wife  happy."  He  spoke  with  every  indication 
of  sympathy  and  sincerity. 

"  This  is  very  satisfactory,  cousin ;  but  the  matter  does  not 
rest  with  me,  it  rests  with  my  sister  and  father,"  said  Mar- 
guerite. 

"I  know  that,  dear  cousin,"  the  notary  answered,  "but 
you  are  like  a  mother  to  them  all ;  besides,  I  have  nothing 
13 


194  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

more  nearly  at  heart  than  that  you  should  judge  of  mine  cor- 
rectly." 

This  way  of  speaking  was  characteristic  of  the  honest 
notary.  Later  in  life,  Pierquin's  reply  to  an  invitation  from 
the  commanding  officer  at  Saint  Omei  became  famous ;  the 
latter  had  asked  him  to  some  military  festivity,  and  Pierquin's 
response  was  worded  thus:  "Monsieur  Pierquin-Claes  de 
Molina-Nourho,  Mayor  of  the  city  of  Douai,  Chevalier  of  the 
Legion  of  Honor,  will  have  that  of  being  present,"  etc. 

Marguerite  accepted  his  offer  only  in  so  far  as  it  related  to 
his  professional  advice,  fearing  to  compromise  her  dignity  as 
a  woman,  her  sister's  future,  or  her  father's  authority.  The 
same  day  she  confided  her  sister  to  the  care  of  Josette  and 
Martha,  who  were  devoted  body  and  soul  to  their  young  mis- 
tress, and  entered  into  all  her  plans  of  retrenchment ;  and 
Marguerite  set  out  immediately  for  Waignies,  where  she  be- 
gan to  put  her  schemes  into  execution  at  once,  benefited  by 
Pierquin's  experience. 

The  notary  reckoned  up  the  time  and  trouble  expended, 
and  regarded  it  as  an  excellent  investment ;  he  was  putting 
them  out  to  interest,  as  it  were,  and,  with  such  a  prospect  be- 
fore him,  he  had  no  mind  to  grudge  the  outlay. 

In  the  first  place,  he  endeavored  to  spare  Marguerite  the 
trouble  of  clearing  the  land  and  getting  it  ready  for  cultiva- 
tion. He  found  three  sons  of  wealthy  farmers,  young  men 
who  were  anxious  to  settle  themselves ;  to  them  he  pointed 
out  the  attractive  possibilities  offered  by  such  a  fertile  soil, 
and  succeeded  in  letting  the  land  to  them  just  as  it  was,  on  a 
long  lease.  For  the  first  three  years  they  were  to  pay  no  rent 
at  all,  in  the  fourth  they  undertook  to  pay  six  thousand 
francs,  twelve  thousand  in  the  sixth,  and  after  that,  fifteen 
thousand  francs  yearly  till  the  expiration  of  the  lease.  They 
also  undertook  to  drain  the  land,  to  make  plantations,  and 
purchase  cattle.  While  the  steadings  were  in  course  of  erec- 
tion they  began  to  clear  the  ground. 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  195 

Four  years  after  Balthazar's  departure,  Marguerite  had 
almost  retrieved  the  fortunes  of  her  brother  and  sister.  Two 
hundred  thousand  francs,  loaned  by  Emmanuel  de  Solis,  had 
covered  the  expenses  of  the  farm  buildings.  Advice  and 
more  substantial  help  had  been  readily  given  to  the  brave  girl, 
for  every  one  admired  Marguerite's  courage.  She  personally 
superintended  the  building  operations,  and  looked  after  her 
contracts  and  leases  with  the  good  sense,  energy,  and  per- 
severance which  a  woman  can  display  when  she  is  sustained 
by  strong  feeling. 

After  the  fifth  year  Marguerite  could  devote  thirty  thou- 
sand francs  of  her  income  to  paying  off  the  mortgages  on  her 
father's  property,  and  to  repairing  the  havoc  wrought  by- 
Balthazar's  passion  in  the  old  house.  Besides  the  rent  fronv 
their  own  farms,  they  had  the  interest  on  the  capital  invested 
in  her  brother's  name,  and  the  proceeds  of  her  father's  prop- 
erty. The  process  of  extinction  of  the  debt  was  bound  to  be 
more  and  more  rapid  as  the  amount  of  interest  decreased. 
Emmanuel  de  Solis,  moreover,  had  persuaded  Marguerite  to 
take  the  remaining  tiundred  thousand  francs  of  his  uncle's 
bequest,  as  well  as  some  twenty  thousand  francs  which  he  him- 
self had  saved,  so  that  in  the  third  year  of  her  administration 
she  could  pay  off  a  fairly  large  amount  of  debt.  This  life  of 
courage,  self-denial,  and  self-sacrifice  lasted  for  five  years,  but 
it  ended  at  last,  thanks  to  Marguerite's  influence  and  super- 
vision, in  complete  success. 

Gabriel  had  become  a  civil  engineer,  and  with  his  great- 
uncle's  help  had  made  a  rapid  fortune  by  the  construction  of 
a  canal.  He  found  favor  in  the  eyes  of  his  cousin,  Mile. 
Conyncks,  whom  her  father  idolized,  one  of  the  richest 
heiresses  in  all  Flanders.  In  1824  Claes'  property  was  free, 
and  the  house  in  the  Rue  de  Paris  had  repaired  its  losses. 
Pierquin  made  formal  application  to  Balthazar  for  Felicie's 
hand,  and  M.  de  Solis  asked  for  Marguerite. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  month  of  January,   1825,  Mar- 


196  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

guerite  and  M.  Conyncks  set  out  for  Brittany  to  bring  back 
the  exiled  father,  whom  every  one  longed  to  see  in  his  home 
again.  He  had  resigned  his  post  that  he  might  spend  the  rest 
of  his  days  among  his  children,  and  his  presence  should  sanction 
their  happiness.  Marguerite  had  often  bewailed  the  empty 
spaces  on  the  walls  of  the  picture-gallery  and  the  state  apart- 
ments, which  must  meet  their  father's  eyes  on  his  return,  so 
that  while  she  was  away  Pierquin  and  M.  de  Solis  plotted 
with  Felicie  to  prepare  a  surprise  for  her ;  the  younger  sister 
should  also  have  a  share  in  the  restoration  of  the  Maison 
Claes.  Both  gentlemen  had  bought  several  fine  pictures, 
which  they  presented  to  Felicie,  so  that  the  gallery  might  be 
adorned  as  of  old.  The  same  thought  had  occurred  to  M. 
Conyncks,  who  wished  to  show  his  appreciation  of  Marguerite's 
noble  conduct,  and  of  the  way  in  which  she  had  devoted  her- 
self to  fulfilling  her  dying  mother's  request.  He  arranged 
that  fifty  of  his  finest  pictures,  together  with  some  of  those 
that  Balthazar  had  previously  sold,  should  be  sent  to  fill  the 
picture  gallery,  where  there  were  now  no  more  blank  spaces. 

Marguerite  had  visited  her  father  several  times,  Jean  or  her 
sister  accompanying  her  on  each  journey ;  but,  since  her  last 
visit,  old  age  seemed  to  have  gained  on  Balthazar.  He  lived 
extremely  penuriously,  for  nearly  all  his  income  was  spent  on 
the  experiment  which  brought  nothing  but  disappointment, 
and  probably  the  alarming  symptoms  were  due  to  his  manner 
of  life.  He  was  only  sixty-five  years  of  age,  but  he  looked 
like  a  man  of  eighty.  His  eyes  were  deeply  sunk  in  his  face, 
his  eyebrows  were  white,  his  hair  hung  in  a  scanty  fringe 
round  his  head,  he  allowed  his  beard  to  grow,  cutting  it  with 
a  pair  of  scissors  when  its  length  annoyed  him,  he  stooped 
like  an  old  vine-dresser,  his  neglected  dress  suggested  a  degree 
of  wretchedness  that  was  frightful  when  combined  with  his 
look  of  decrepitude.  Sometimes  his  face  looked  noble  still 
when  a  great  thought  lighted  it  up,  but  the  outlines  of  his 
features  were  obliterated  by  wrinkles ;  his  fixed  gaze,  the  des- 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  197 

perate  look  in  his  eyes,  and  his  restless  uneasiness  seemed  to 
be  symptoms  of  insanity,  or  rather  of  many  forms  of  insanity. 
A  sudden  gleam  of  hope  would  give  him  the  look  of  a  mono- 
maniac ;  an  excess  of  impatience,  that  he  could  not  guess  this 
secret  which  flitted  before  him  and  eluded  his  grasp  like  a  will- 
o'-the-wisp,  would  blaze  out  into  impotent  anger  like  madness, 
to  be  followed  by  a  burst  of  laughter  at  his  own  folly ;  but, 
as  a  rule,  he  lived  in  a  state  of  the  deepest  dejection,  and 
every  phase  of  frenzy  was  merged  in  the  dull  melancholy  of 
the  idiot.  However  fleeting  and  imperceptible  these  changes 
of  expression  might  be  for  strangers,  they  were  unhappily  only 
too  obvious  for  those  who  had  known  the  once  noble  face,  the 
Claes  of  former  years,  so  sublime  in  goodness  and  so  great- 
hearted, of  whom  scarcely  a  trace  could  now  be  recognized. 

Le  Mulquinier,  like  his  master,  was  old  and  worn  by  in- 
cessant toil,  but  he  had  not  borne  the  same  burden,  nor 
endured  the  constant  strain  of  thought ;  a  curious  mixture  of 
anxiety  and  admiration  in  the  way  in  which  he  looked  at  his 
master  might  easily  have  misled  a  casual  observer;  he  listened 
respectfully  to  Claes'  slightest  word,  and  watched  his  move- 
ments with  a  kind  of  tenderness  ;  he  looked  after  his  great 
and  learned  master  with  a  care  like  a  mother's ;  he  even 
seemed  to  protect  him,  and,  in  some  ways,  actually  did  pro- 
tect him,  for  Balthazar  never  took  any  thought  for  the  needs 
of  physical  existence.  It  was  touching  and  painful  to  see  the 
two  old  men,  both  wrapped  in  the  same  thought,  both  so  sure 
of  the  reality  of  their  hope,  inspired  by  the  same  restless 
longing;  it  was  as  if  they  had  but  one  life  between  them 
— the  one  was  the  soul,  and  the  other  the  body.  When  Mar- 
guerite and  M.  Conyncks  arrived  they  found  M.  Claes  living 
in  an  inn ;  his  successor  had  taken  his  place  at  once. 

Through  all  the  preoccupation  of  science,  Balthazar  had 
felt  stirrings  of  the  desire  to  see  his  country,  his  home,  and 
children  once  more ;  his  daughter's  letter  had  brought  good 
news ;  he  had  begun  to  dream  of  a  crowning  series  of  experi- 


198  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

ments,  which  should  surely  yield  at  last  the  secret  of  the 
Absolute,  and  he  awaited  Marguerite's  coming  with  great 
impatience. 

The  young  girl  shed  tears  of  joy  as  she  flung  herself  into 
his  arms.  This  time  she  had  come  to  receive  her  reward,  the 
reward  of  a  painful  and  difficult  task,  and  to  ask  pardon  for 
her  brilliant  success  in  it.  But  as  she  looked  more  closely  at 
her  father,  she  was  shocked  at  the  changes  wrought  in  him 
since  the  previous  visit ;  she  felt  as  if  she  had  committed  a 
crime,  like  some  great  man  who  violates  the  liberties  of  his 
country  to  save  its  national  existence.  M.  Conyncks  shared 
his  niece's  misgivings  ;  he  insisted  that  his  cousin  must  be 
moved  at  once,  that  the  air  of  his  native  Douai  might  restore 
him  to  health,  as  the  life  by  his  own  hearth  should  restore  his 
reason. 

After  the  first  outpourings  of  affection,  which  were  much 
warmer  on  Balthazar's  part  than  Marguerite  had  expected,  he 
was  strangely  attentive  to  her  wishes ;  he  expressed  his  regret 
at  receiving  her  in  such  a  poor  place ;  he  consulted  her  tastes 
in  the  ordering  of  their  meals,  and  was  as  sedulously  watchful 
as  a  lover.  But  in  his  manner  also  there  was  something  of 
the  uneasiness  and  anxiety  of  the  culprit  who  wishes  to  secure 
a  favorable  hearing  from  a  judge.  Marguerite  knew  her  father 
so  well  that  she  guessed  the  motives  underlying  this  affectionate 
solicitude ;  she  thought  that  he  must  have  incurred  debts  in 
the  town,  which  he  was  anxious  to  pay  before  he  went.  She 
watched  her  father  narrowly  for  a  while,  and  a  human  heart 
was  laid  bare  to  her  gaze.  Balthazar  seemed  to  have  grown 
little.  The  consciousness  of  his  humiliation,  the  enforced 
isolation  resulting  from  his  scientific  pursuits,  had  made  him 
shy  and  almost  like  a  child,  save  when  the  subject  under  dis- 
cussion was  connected  with  his  beloved  science.  He  stood  in 
awe  of  his  oldest  daughter ;  he  remembered  her  devotion  in 
the  past,  the  power  of  mind  and  character  that  she  had  shown, 
the  authority  with  which  he  himself  had  invested  her,  the 


THE  QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  199 

fortune  which  she  had  administered  so  ably ;  and  the  inde- 
finable feeling  of  dread  which  had  taken  possession  of  him  on 
the  day  when  he  resigned  the  authority  which  he  had  abused 
had  no  doubt  grown  stronger  with  time. 

Conyncks  seemed  to  be  as  nothing  in  Balthazar's  eyes ;  he 
saw  no  one  but  his  daughter,  and  thought  of  no  one  else ;  he 
even  seemed  to  dread  her,  as  a  weak-minded  man  is  overawed 
by  the  wife  whose  will  is  stronger  than  his  own.  Marguerite's 
heart  smote  her  when  she  detected  a  look  of  terror  in  his 
eyes,  an  expression  like  that  of  some  little  child  who  has  been 
doing  wrong.  The  noble  girl  could  not  understand  the  con- 
tradiction between  the  magnificent  stern  outlines  of  the  head, 
the  features  worn  by  scientific  labors  and  strenuous  thought, 
and  the  weak  smile  on  Balthazar's  lips,  the  expression  of  art- 
less servility  in  his  face.  This  sharp  contrast  between  greatness 
and  littleness  was  very  painful  to  her ;  she  resolved  to  use  her 
influence  to  restore  her  father's  self-respect  before  the  great 
day  which  was  to  restore  him  to  his  family.  When  they  were 
left  together  for  a  moment,  she  began  at  once,  seizing  the 
opportunity  to  say  in  his  ear — 

"  Have  you  any  debts  here,  father  ?  " 

Balthazar  reddened  uneasily,  and  answered,  "  I  do  not 
know,  but  Le  Mulquinier  will  tell  you ;  he  is  a  good  fellow, 
and  knows  more  about  my  affairs  than  I  do  myself." 

Marguerite  rang  for  the  servant,  and  when  he  came  she 
could  not  help  studying  the  faces  of  the  two  old  men. 

"  Is  something  wanted,  monsieur?"  asked  Le  Mulquinier. 

Personal  pride  and  family  pride  were  two  of  Marguerite's 
strongest  instincts;  something  in  the  servant's  tone  and  man- 
ner told  of  an  unseemly  familiarity  between  her  father  and  the 
companion  of  his  labors  which  gave  her  a  pang. 

"  It  seems  that  my  father  is  unable  to  reckon  up  what  he 
owes  here  without  your  memory  to  aid  him,  Le  Mulquinier," 
said  Marguerite. 

"  Monsieur  owes,"  Le  Mulquinier  began,  but  checked  him- 


200  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

self  at  a  sign  from  Balthazar,  which  did  not  escape  Marguerite. 
She  felt  surprised  and  humiliated. 

"Tell  me  exactly  how  much  my  father  owes,"  she  ex- 
claimed. 

' '  Monsieur  owes  five  thousand  francs  here  in  the  town  to  a 
druggist  and  wholesale  grocer  who  has  supplied  us  with  caustic 
potash,  lead  and  zinc,  and  reagents." 

"Is  that  all?"  asked  Marguerite. 

Balthazar  made  an  affirmative  sign  to  Le  Mulquinier,  who 
answered  like  a  man  under  a  spell,  "  Yes,  mademoiselle." 

"Very  well,"  she  said,  "I  will  give  you  the  money." 

Balthazar  kissed  his  daughter  in  his  joy.  "You  are  my 
guardian  angel,  my  child,"  he  said. 

He  breathed  more  freely  after  that.  There  was  less  sadness 
in  his  eyes  as  he  looked  at  her ;  but,  in  spite  of  his  joy,  Mar- 
guerite could  see  that  in  the  depths  of  his  heart  he  was  still 
troubled,  and  she  guessed  that  the  five  thousand  francs  merely 
represented  the  most  pressing  of  the  debts  contracted  for  the 
expenses  of  the  laboratory. 

"  Be  frank  with  me,  father,"  she  said,  as  she  let  him  draw 
her  towards  him,  and  sat  on  his  knees,  "do  you  owe  more 
than  this?  Tell  me  everything;  come  back  to  your  home 
without  any  lurking  fear  in  your  mind  in  the  midst  of  the 
rejoicing." 

"  My  dear  Marguerite,"  he  answered,  taking  her  hands  and 
kissing  them  with  a  grace  that  seemed  like  a  memory  of  his 
youth,  "  shall  you  scold  me  ?  " 

"No,"  she  said. 

"Really?"  he  asked,  with  an  involuntary  start  of  childish 
joy.  "Can  I  really  tell  you  everything?  and  will  you  pay 


"  Yes,"  she  said,  trying  to  keep  back  the  tears  that  came 
to  her  eyes. 

"Very  well,  then,  I  owe.     Oh !  I  dare  not !  " 
"Father,  do  tell  me!" 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  201 

"But  it  is  a  great  deal,"  he  went  on. 
She  clasped  her  hands  in  despair. 

"  I  owe  thirty  thousand  francs  to  MM.  Protez  and  Chiffre- 
ville." 

"Thirty  thousand  francs — all  my  savings,"  she  said;  "but 
I  am  glad  that  I  can  give  them  to  you,"  she  added,  with  a 
reverent  kiss  on  his  forehead. 

He  sprang  to  his  feet,  caught  his  daughter  in  his  arms,  and 
spun  round  the  room  with  her,  lifting  her  off  her  feet  as 
though  she  had  been  a  child ;  then  he  set  her  down  in  the 
armchair  where  she  had  been  sitting,  exclaiming,  "My  dear 
child,  my  treasure  of  love !  There  was  no  life  left  in  me. 
Protez  and  Chiffreville  have  written  three  times ;  they  threaten 
proceedings — proceedings  against  me,  when  I  have  made  their 

fortunes " 

"  Then  you  are  still  trying  to  find  the  solution  of  your 
problem,  father  ?  ' '  said  Marguerite  sadly. 

"Yes,  still,"  he  said,  with  a  frenzied  smile,  "and  I  shall 

find  it,  never  fear ! If  you  only  knew  where  we  are  !  " 

"  We,  who?" 

"I  mean  Mulquinier;  he  understands  me  at  last;  he  is  a 

great  help  to  me Poor  fellow,  he  is  so  faithful !  " 

Conyncks  came  in  at  that  moment  and  put  an  end  to  their 
conversation.  Marguerite  made  a  sign  to  her  father  to  say  no 
more ;  she  dreaded  lest  he  should  lower  himself  in  their 
uncle's  eyes. 

It  shocked  her  to  see  the  havoc  wrought  in  that  great  intel- 
lect by  incessant  preoccupation  with  a  problem  perhaps  after 
all  insoluble.  Balthazar,  doubtless,  could  see  nothing  beyond 
his  crucibles  and  furnaces ;  it  never  even  crossed  his  mind 
that  his  affairs  were  no  longer  embarrassed. 

They  set  out  for  Flanders  next  day;  the  journey  was  a 
sufficiently  long  one,  and  Marguerite  had  time  to  see  many 
things  on  the  way  that  threw  gleams  of  light  on  the  relative 
positions  of  Le  Mulquinier  and  his  master.  Had  the  servant 


202  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

gained  the  ascendancy,  which  uneducated  minds  can  acquire 
over  the  greatest  thinkers  if  they  feel  that  they  are  indispen- 
sable to  their  betters  ?  Such  natures  use  concession  after  con- 
cession as  stepping-stones  to  complete  dominion,  and  attain 
their  end  at  last  by  dint  of  dogged  persistence.  Or,  on  the 
other  hand,  was  it  the  master  who  had  come  to  feel  for  the 
servant  the  sort  of  affection  that  springs  from  use  and  wont, 
not  unlike  the  fondness  which  a  craftsman  feels  for  his  tool 
which  executes  his  will,  or  the  Arab  for  the  horse  to  which  he 
owes  his  freedom  ?  Little  things  that  passed  under  Margue- 
rite's watchful  eyes  decided  her  to  put  this  affection  to  the 
test,  by  proposing  to  free  Balthazar  from  what  perhaps  was  a 
galling  yoke. 

They  spent  a  few  days  in  Paris  on  their  way  back.  Mar- 
guerite paid  her  father's  debts,  and  besought  the  firm  of 
chemists  to  send  nothing  to  Douai  without  first  giving  her 
notice  of  Claes'  orders.  She  persuaded  her  father  to  make 
some  changes  in  his  costume,  and  to  dress  as  became  a  man 
of  his  rank.  This  external  transformation  gave  Balthazar  a 
sort  of  physical  dignity,  which  augured  well  for  a  change  in 
his  ideas.  Marguerite  already  felt  something  of  the  happiness 
which  she  looked  for  when  her  father  should  find  the  sur- 
prises that  awaited  him  in  his  own  house ;  and  their  depart- 
ure for  Douai  was  not  long  delayed. 

Felicie,  accompanied  by  her  two  brothers,  Emmanuel,  Pier- 
quin,  and  the  most  intimate  friends  of  the  three  families,  rode 
out  three  leagues  from  the  town  to  meet  Balthazar.  The  long 
journey  had  given  other  directions  to  the  chemist's  thoughts, 
the  sight  of  the  Flemish  landscape  had  stirred  his  heart,  so 
that  at  the  sight  of  the  joyous  cortege  of  children  and  friends 
he  felt  so  deeply  touched  that  tears  filled  his  eyes,  his  voice 
shook,  and  his  eyelids  reddened  ;  he  took  his  children  in  his 
arms,  and  seemed  as  if  he  could  not  let  them  go,  showing 
such  passionate  affection  for  them  that  the  onlookers  were 
moved  to  tears. 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  203 

He  turned  pale  when  he  saw  his  house  once  more,  and 
sprang  out  of  the  carriage  with  the  quickness  of  a  young 
man  ;  it  seemed  to  be  a  pleasure  to  him  to  breathe  the  air  in  the 
courtyard  once  more,  to  see  every  trifling  detail  again ;  his 
happiness  was  plainly  visible  in  every  gesture  that  he  made ; 
he  held  himself  erect,  his  face  grew  young  again. 

Tears  came  to  his  eyes  as  he  stood  in  the  doorway  of  the 
parlor,  and  saw  how  accurately  his  daughter  had  reproduced 
the  old-fashioned  silver  sconces  which  he  had  sold,  and  how 
completely  every  trace  of  their  misfortunes  had  disappeared. 
A  magnificent  breakfast  awaited  them  in  the  dining-room  ; 
the  shelves  above  the  sideboards  had  been  filled  with  curiosi- 
ties and  silver-plate  at  least  as  valuable  as  the  heirlooms  which 
formerly  had  stood  there.  Long  as  the  family  breakfast 
lasted,  Balthazar  scarcely  heard  all  that  he  wished  to  hear 
from  each  of  his  children.  His  return  had  brought  about  a 
sort  of  reaction  in  him ;  he  thought  of  nothing  but  family 
happiness  ;  he  was  a  father  before  all  things.  There  was  the 
old  courtliness  in  his  manner.  In  the  joy  of  that  first  moment 
of  possession  he  did  not  ask  by  what  means  all  that  he  had 
squandered  had  been  recovered,  and  his  happiness  was  com- 
plete and  entire. 

Breakfast  over,  the  father  and  his  four  children,  and  Pier- 
quin  the  notary,  went  into  the  parlor,  and  Balthazar  saw,  not 
without  uneasiness,  the  stamped  papers  which  a  clerk  had 
arranged  on  the  table  by  which  he  stood,  as  if  awaiting 
further  instructions  from  his  employer.  Balthazar  stood  in 
amazement  before  the  hearth  as  his  family  seated  themselves. 

"  This,"  said  Pierquin,  "  is  an  account  of  his  guardianship 
rendered  by  M.  Claes  to  his  children.  It  is  not  very  amusing, 
of  course,"  he  added,  laughing,  after  the  manner  of  notaries, 
who  are  wont  to  adopt  a  jesting  tone  over  the  gravest  matters 
of  business,  "but  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that  you  should 
hear  it  read." 

Although  the  circumstances  of  the  case  might  justify  the 


204  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

use  of  this  phrase,  M.  Claes,  with  an  uneasy  conscience,  must 
needs  think  it  a  reproach,  and  he  frowned.  The  clerk  began 
to  read ;  the  farther  he  read,  the  greater  grew  Balthazar's 
astonishment.  In  the  first  place,  it  was  ascertained  that  at 
the  time  of  his  wife's  death  her  fortune  had  amounted  to 
about  sixteen  hundred  thousand  francs,  and  at  the  conclusion 
of  the  statement  of  accounts  each  child's  share  was  paid  in 
full,  everything  was  clear  and  straightforward,  as  if  the  most 
prudent  father  of  a  family  had  administered  the  estate.  It 
was  shown  incidentally  that  Gabriel's  mortgage  on  the  house 
had  been  paid  off,  that  Balthazar's  dwelling  was  his  own,  and 
that  his  estates  were  free  from  all  liabilities.  He  had  recov- 
ered his  honor  as  a  man,  his  position  as  a  citizen,  his  existence 
as  a  father  all  at  once ;  he  sank  into  an  armchair  and  looked 
round  for  Marguerite,  but,  with  a  woman's  exquisite  delicacy 
of  feeling,  she  had  stolen  away  during  the  reading,  to  make 
sure  that  all  her  arrangements  for  the  f£te  had  been  fully 
carried  out.  Every  one  of  Claes'  children  understood  what 
was  passing  in  his  mind  when  through  a  film  of  tears  his  eyes 
sought  for  his  daughter ;  she  seemed  to  their  inner  vision  like 
a  strong,  bright  angel.  Gabriel  went  to  find  Marguerite, 
Balthazar  heard  her  footstep,  hurried  towards  her,  met  her  at 
the  foot  of  the  staircase,  and  clasped  her  in  his  arms. 

"  Father,"  she  said,  as  the  old  man  held  her  tightly,  "  do 
nothing,  I  implore  you,  to  lessen  your  sacred  authority.  You 
must  thank  me,  before  them  all,  for  carrying  out  your  wishes 
so  well ;  you,  and  you  alone,  must  be  the  author  of  the 
changes  for  the  better  which  may  have  been  effected  here." 

Balthazar  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven,  looked  at  his  daughter 
and  folded  his  arms ;  his  face  wore  a  look  which  none  of  his 
children  had  seen  for  ten  years,  as  he  said,  "  Why  are  you  not 
here,  Pepita,  to  admire  our  child  ?  " 

He  could  say  no  more.  He  held  his  daughter  in  a  tight 
embrace  for  a  moment,  and  went  back  to  the  parlor. 

"  Children,"  he  said,  with  the  noble  bearing  which  had  so 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  205 

pre-eminently  distinguished  him  in  former  years,  "  we  all  owe 
a  debt  of  thanks  and  gratitude  to  my  daughter  Marguerite  for 
the  courage  and  prudence  with  which  she  has  carried  out  my 
plans,  while  I,  too  much  absorbed  by  scientific  research,  left 
the  administration  of  our  affairs  and  the  reins  of  authority  in 
her  hands." 

"Ah!  now  we  will  read  the  marriage  contracts,"  said 
Pierquin,  glancing  at  the  clock.  "But  I  have  nothing  to  do 
with  that,  inasmuch  as  the  law  forbids  me  to  draw  up  docu- 
ments for  myself  and  my  relations  ;  so  M.  Raparlier's  uncle 
is  coming." 

The  friends  who  had  been  invited  to  the  dinner  given  to 
celebrate  M.  Claes'  return  and  the  signing  of  the  contracts 
now  began  to  arrive,  and  the  servants  brought  the  wedding 
presents.  The  assemblage,  which  rapidly  grew,  was  brilliant 
by  reason  of  the  rank  of  the  visitors  and  the  splendor  of  their 
toilet.  The  three  families  thus  brought  together  to  witness 
their  children's  happiness  had  striven  to  outshine  each  other. 
The  parlor  was  filled  almost  at  once  with  splendid  gifts  for 
the  betrothed  couples.  Gold  flowed  in  on  them  and  sparkled 
there,  stuffs  lay  unfolded,  cashmere  shawls  lay  among  neck- 
laces and  jewels.  Givers  and  receivers  alike  felt  heartfelt  joy ; 
an  almost  childish  delight  shone  visibly  in  all  faces,  so  that 
the  magnificence  and  costliness  of  the  gifts  were  forgotten  by 
those  less  nearly  concerned,  who,  as  a  rule,  are  sufficiently 
ready  to  amuse  themselves  by  counting  up  the  cost. 

The  ceremony  soon  began.  After  the  manner  traditional 
in  the  family  of  Claes,  the  parents  alone  were  seated  ;  every 
one  else  who  was  present  remained  standing  about  them  at  a 
little  distance.  On  the  side  of  the  parlor  nearest  the  garden 
stood  Gabriel  Claes  and  Mile.  Conyncks,  next  to  them  M. 
de  Solis  and  Marguerite,  her  sister  Felicie  and  Pierquin. 
Balthazar  and  M.  Conyncks  (the  only  two  who  were  seated) 
took  up  their  position  on  either  side  of  the  notary  who  had 
succeeded  Pierquin.  Jean  stood  behind  his  father's  armchair; 


206  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

and  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  room,  nearest  the  courtyard, 
stood  an  imposing  circle,  composed  of  a  score  of  well-dressed 
women  and  several  men,  near  relations  of  Pierquin,  Conyncks, 
or  of  the  Claes,  the  mayor  of  Douai,  before  whom  the  mar- 
riages were  to  take  place,  and  a  dozen  of  the  most  devoted 
friends  of  the  three  families,  including  the  first  president  of 
the  Court-Royal  of  Douai  and  the  cure  of  St.  Pierre.  The 
homage  paid  by  such  an  assemblage  to  the  fathers,  who  seemed 
for  a  moment  to  be  invested  with  regal  dignity,  gave  an  almost 
patriarchal  color  to  the  scene.  For  the  first  time,  during  six- 
teen years,  Balthazar  forgot  the  Quest  of  the  Absolute  for  a 
moment. 

All  the  persons  who  had  been  invited  to  the  signing  of  the 
contract  and  to  the  dinner  were  now  present.  M.  Rapar- 
lier,  having  ascertained  this  from  Marguerite  and  her  sister, 
had  returned  to  his  place  and  taken  up  the  contract  of  mar- 
riage between  Marguerite  and  Emmanuel  de  Solis,  which  was 
to  be  read  first,  when  the  door  suddenly  flew  open,  and  Le 
Mulquinier's  face  appeared  beaming  with  joy  and  excite- 
ment. 

"Monsieur!  monsieur!"  he  called. 

Balthazar  gave  Marguerite  a  despairing  glance,  beckoned 
to  her,  and  they  went  out  into  the  garden  together.  A  pre- 
sentiment of  impending  trouble  fell  on  those  assembled. 

"  I  did  not  dare  to  tell  you,  dear  child,"  the  father  said  to 
his  daughter,  "but  you  have  done  so  much  for  me  that  you 
will  surely  help  me  out  of  this  new  trouble.  Le  Mulquinier 
loaned  me  his  savings  for  my  last  experiment,  which  was 
unsuccessful ;  he  loaned  me  twenty  thousand  francs,  and 
doubtless  the  wretched  fellow  has  found  out  that  I  am  rich 
again,  and  wants  to  have  his  money;  let  him  have  it  at 
once.  Oh  !  my  angel,  you  owe  your  father's  life  to  him,  for 
he  was  my  sole  support  and  comfort  through  all  my  failures  ; 
he  alone  still  had  faith  in  me.  Without  him  I  must  have 
died " 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  207 

"  Monsieur,  monsieur  !  "  cried  Le  Mulquinier. 

"Well?"  said  Balthazar,  turning  towards  him. 

"  A  diamond  !  " 

At  the  sight  of  the  diamond  in  the  old  servant's  hand, 
Claes  rushed  to  the  parlor.  Le  Mulquinier  began  in  a 
whisper — 

"  I  went  up  to  the  laboratory " 

The  chemist,  completely  forgetful  of  his  surroundings,  gave 
the  old  Fleming  a  look  which  can  only  be  rendered  by  the 
words — 

"  You  were  the  first  to  go  up  to  the  laboratory  !  " 

"And  I  found  this  diamond  there,"  the  servant  went  on, 
"  in  the  capsule  which  communicated  with  that  battery  which 
we  left  to  its  own  devices — and  it  has  done  the  trick,  sir!  " 
he  added,  holding  up  a  white  diamond  of  octahedral  form, 'so 
brilliant  that  the  eyes  of  all  those  assembled  were  attracted 
by  it. 

"My  children  and  friends,"  said  Balthazar,  "forgive  my 
old  servant,  forgive  me.  This  will  drive  me  mad  !  At  some 
time  during  the  past  seven  years  chance  has  brought  about  in 
my  laboratory  this  result  that  I  have  sought  in  vain  to  compass 
for  sixteen  years — and  I  was  not  there  !  How  has  it  come 
about?  I  have  no  idea.  Oh,  yes;  I  know  that  I  submitted 
a  combination  of  sulphur  and  carbon  to  the  influence  of  a  vol- 
taic battery,  but  the  process  should  have  been  watched  from 
day  to  day.  And  now,  during  my  absence,  the  power  of  God 
has  been  manifested  in  my  laboratory,  and  I  have  been  unable 
to  watch  its  workings,  for  this  has  been  brought  about  grad- 
ually, of  course  !  It  is  overwhelming,  is  it  not  ?  Accursed 
exile  !  accursed  fatality  !  Ah  !  if  only  I  had  watched  this  long, 
this  slow,  this  sudden — I  know  not  what  to  call  it — crystal- 
lization, transformation,  miracle,  in  fact,  my  children  would 
be — well,  richer  still.  Perhaps  the  problem  would  still  remain 
to  be  solved,  but  at  least  the  first  rays  of  the  dawn  of  my  glory 
would  have  shone  upon  my  country ;  and  this  moment,  when 


208  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

the  longings  of  affection  are  satisfied,  though  it  glows  with 
our  happiness,  would  have  been  gladdened  yet  more  by  the 
sunlight  of  science." 

Every  one  kept  silence;  the  disconnected  phrases  wrung 
from  him  by  agony  were  too  sincere  not  to  be  sublime.  All 
at  once  Balthazar  recovered  himself,  forced  back  his  despair 
into  some  inner  depths,  and  gave  the  assembly  a  majestic 
glance.  Other  souls  caught  something  of  his  enthusiasm. 
He  took  the  sparkling  diamond  and  held  it  out  to  Marguerite, 
saying — 

"  It  belongs  to  you,  my  angel." 

He  dismissed  Le  Mulquinier  by  a  sign,  and  spoke  to  the 
notary — 

"Let  us  go  on,"  he  said. 

The  words  produced  a  sensation  among  those  who  heard 
them,  a  responsive  thrill  such  as  Talma,  in  some  of  his  parts, 
could  awaken  in  a  vast  listening  audience  that  hung  on  his 
words.  Balthazar  sat  down,  saying  to  himself,  "To-day  I 
must  be  a  father  only."  He  spoke  in  a  low  voice  ;  but  Mar- 
guerite, who  overheard  him,  went  over  to  her  father  and 
reverently  kissed  his  hand. 

"  Never  was  there  a  man  so  great !  "  said  Emmanuel,  when 
his  betrothed  returned  to  his  side  ;  "  never  was  there  so  strong 
a  will ;  any  other  would  have  gone  mad." 

As  soon  as  the  three  contracts  had  been  read  and  signed, 
every  one  crowded  about  Balthazar  to  ask  how  the  diamond 
had  been  made,  but  he  could  throw  no  light  on  the  mysteri- 
ous event.  He  looked  out  at  the  attic,  and  pointed  to  it  in  a 
kind  of  frenzy. 

"  Yes,  the  awful  power  which  results  from  the  vibrations  of 
glowing  matter,  which  doubtless  produces  metals  and  dia- 
monds, manifested  itself  there,"  he  said,  "for  one  moment — 
by  chance." 

"A  chance  that  came  about  quite  naturally,"  said  one  of 
those  people  who  like  to  account  for  everything;  "the  old 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUl^E.  209 

gentleman  left  a  real  diamond  lying  about.     It  is  so  much 
saved  out  of  all  that  he  has  burned  up." 

"Let  us  forget  this,"  said  Balthazar  to  the  friends  who 
stood  about  him;  "I  beg  you  will  not  speak  of  it  again  to 
me  to-day." 

Marguerite  took  her  father's  arm  to  lead  him  to  the  state 
apartments,  where  a  banquet  had  been  prepared.  As  he  fol- 
lowed his  guests  along  the  gallery,  he  saw  that  it  was  filled 
with  rare  flowers,  and  that  the  walls  were  covered  with  pic- 
tures. 

"Pictures!"  he  cried,  "pictures! — and  some  of  the  old 
ones!" 

He  stopped ;  for  a  moment  he  looked  gloomy  and  sad ;  he 
knew  by  the  extent  of  his  own  humiliation  how  great  had 
been  the  wrong  that  he  had  done  his  children. 

"All  this  is  yours,  father,"  said  Marguerite,  guessing  Bal- 
thazar's trouble. 

"Angel,  over  whom  the  angels  in  heaven  must  surely 
rejoice,"  he  cried,  "how  many  times  you  have  given  life  to 
your  father." 

"Let  there  be  no  cloud  on  your  brow,  and  not  the  least 
sad  thought  left  in  your  heart,"  she  answered,  "and  you  will 
have  rewarded  me  beyond  my  hopes.  I  have  just  been  thinking 
about  Le  Mulquinier,  dearest  father;  little  things  you  have 
said  of  him  now  and  then  have  made  me  esteem  him,  and  I 
confess  I  have  been  unjust  to  him ;  he  ought  to  live  here  as  a 
humble  friend  of  yours.  Never  mind  about  your  debt  to  him ; 
Emmanuel  has  saved  nearly  sixty  thousand  francs,  and  Le 
Mulquinier  shall  have  the  money.  After  he  has  served  you 
so  faithfully,  he  ought  to  spend  the  rest  of  his  days  in  comfort. 
And  do  not  be  troubled  on  our  account.  M.  de  Solis  and  I 
mean  to  live  simply  and  quietly — without  luxury;  we  can 
spare  the  money  until  you  are  able  to  return  it." 

"  Oh,  my  child  !  you  must  never  leave  me  !  you  must  always 
be  your  father's  providence  !  " 
14 


210  THE  QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

When  she  reached  the  state  apartments,  Balthazar  saw  that 
they  had  been  restored  and  furnished  as  splendidly  as  before. 
The  guests  presently  went  down  to  the  dining-room  on  the 
ground  floor,  flowering  shrubs  stood  on  every  step  of  the  great 
staircase.  A  service  of  silver-plate  of  marvelous  workmanship, 
Gabriel's  gift  to  his  father,  attracted  all  eyes  by  its  splendor ; 
it  was  a  surprise  even  to  the  proudest  burghers  of  Douai,  who 
are  accustomed  to  a  lavish  display  of  silver.  The  guests  were 
waited  upon  by  the  servants  of  the  three  households  of  Claes, 
Conyncks,  and  Pierquin ;  Le  Mulquinier  stood  behind  his 
master's  chair.  Balthazar,  in  the  midst  of  his  kinsfolk  at  the 
head  of  the  table,  read  heartfelt  joy  in  the  happy  faces  that 
encircled  it,  and  felt  so  deeply  moved  that  every  one  was 
silent,  as  men  are  silent  in  the  presence  of  a  great  joy  or 
sorrow. 

"  Dear  children  !  "  he  said,  "  you  have  killed  the  fatted  calf 
for  the  return  of  the  prodigal  father." 

The  phrase  in  which  the  chemist  summed  up  his  position, 
and  which  perhaps  anticipated  harsher  criticism,  was  spoken 
so  generously  that  every  one  present  was  moved  to  tears ;  but 
with  the  tears  the  last  trace  of  sadness  vanished,  and  happi- 
ness found  its  expression  in  the  blithe  merriment  characteristic 
of  family  festivals.  After  the  dinner  the  principal  families 
of  Douai  began  to  arrive  for  the  ball,  and  in  its  restoration 
the  Maison  Claes  more  than  equaled  its  traditional  splendor. 

The  three  weddings  shortly  followed ;  the  ensuing  rejoicings, 
balls,  and  banquets  drew  Claes  into  the  vortex  of  social 
life  for  several  months.  His  oldest  son  went  to  live  near 
Cambrai  on  an  estate  belonging  to  his  father-in-law,  for  M. 
Conyncks  could  not  bear  to  be  separated  from  his  daughter. 
Mme.  Pierquin  likewise  left  her  father's  roof  to  preside  over 
a  mansion  which  Pierquin  had  built,  where  he  meant  to  live 
in  all  the  dignity  befitting  his  rank,  for  he  had  sold  his  prac- 
tice, and  his  uncle  des  Racquets  had  recently  died  and  left 
him  all  the  wealth  which  he  had  slowly  amassed.  Jean  went 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  211 

to  Paris  to  finish  his  education ;  so  of  all  his  children,  only  M. 
and  Mme.  de  Solis  remained  with  Balthazar  in  the  old  house. 
He  had  given  up  the  family  home  in  the  rear  to  them,  and 
lived  himself  on  the  second  story  of  the  front  building.  So 
Marguerite  still  watched  over  Balthazar's  comfort,  and  Em- 
manuel helped  her  in  the  congenial  task. 

The  noble  girl  received  from  the  hands  of  love  the  crown 
most  eagerly  desired  of  all — the  wreath  that  is  woven  by  hap- 
piness and  kept  fresh  by  constancy.  Indeed,  no  more  perfect 
picture  of  the  pure,  complete,  and  acknowledged  happiness, 
of  which  all  women  fondly  dream,  could  be  found.  The 
unity  of  heart  between  two  beings  who  had  faced  the  trials  of 
life  so  bravely,  and  who  felt  for  each  other  such  a  sacred  affec- 
tion, called  forth  the  admiration  and  respect  of  those  who 
knew  them. 

M.  de  Solis,  who  for  some  time  had  held  an  appointment 
as  inspector-general  of  the  university,  resigned  his  post  to 
enjoy  his  happiness  at  his  leisure,  and  remained  in  Douai, 
where  his  character  and  talents  were  held  in  such  high  esteem 
that  his  election  as  a  deputy  when  the  time  came  was  already 
spoken  of  as  certain. 

Marguerite,  who  had  been  so  strong  in  adversity,  became  a 
sweet  and  tender  woman  in  prosperity.  Through  the  rest  of 
that  year  Claes  was  certainly  deeply  absorbed  in  his  studies; 
but  though  he  made  a  few  experiments,  involving  but  little 
expense,  his  ordinary  income  was  sufficient  for  his  require- 
ments, and  he  seemed  to  neglect  his  laboratory  work.  Mar- 
guerite had  adopted  the  old  tradition  of  the  house,  gave  a 
family  dinner  every  month,  to  which  her  father,  the  Pierquins, 
and  the  Conyncks  came,  and  received  her  own  circle  of  ac- 
quaintances one  day  in  the  week.  Her  cafes  had  a  great 
vogue.  Claes  was  usually  present  on  these  occasions,  though 
he  sometimes  seemed  to  be  scarcely  conscious  of  his  surround- 
ings, but  he  went  into  society  again  so  cheerfully  to  please  his 
daughter  that  his  children  might  well  imagine  that  he  had 


212  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

given  up  the  attempt  to  solre  his  problem.  In  this  way  three 
years  went  by. 

In  1828  a  piece  of  good  fortune  which  befell  Emmanuel 
took  him  to  Spain.  Although  three  numerous  families, 
branches  of  the  house  of  Solis,  stood  between  him  and  the 
family  estates,  yellow  fever,  old  age,  and  various  freaks  of 
fortune  combined  to  leave  them  all  childless,  and  the  titles 
and  entail  passed  to  Emmanuel,  who  was  the  last  of  his  family. 
By  one  of  those  chances  which  seem  less  improbable  in  real 
life  than  in  books,  the  lands  and  titles  of  the  Counts  of  Nourho 
had  been  acquired  by  the  house  of  Solis.  Marguerite  would 
not  be  separated  from  her  husband,  who  would  be  forced  to 
stay  long  enough  in  Spain  to  settle  his  affairs ;  moreover,  she 
looked  forward  to  seeing  the  chateau  of  Casa-Real,  where  her 
mother  had  passed  her  childhood,  and  the  city  of  Granada, 
the  cradle  of  the  de  Solis  family.  So  she  went  with  her 
husband,  leaving  the  household  to  Martha,  Josette,  and  Le 
Mulquinier,  who  were  accustomed  to  its  management.  Mar- 
guerite had  proposed  to  Balthazar  that  he  should  go  with 
them,  and  he  had  declined  on  the  score  of  his  great  age ;  but 
the  fact  was  that  he  had  long  meditated  certain  experiments, 
which  should  realize  his  hopes  at  last,  and  this  was  the  true 
reason  of  his  refusal. 

The  Comte  and  Comtesse  de  Solis  y  Nourho  stayed  longer 
in  Spain  than  they  had  intended,  and  a  child  was  born  to 
them  there.  It  was  not  until  the  middle  of  the  year  1830 
that  they  reached  Cadiz,  intending  to  return  to  France  by 
way  of  Italy ;  but  at  Cadiz  a  letter  came  from  Felicie  bringing 
evil  tidings.  In  eighteen  months  their  father  had  completely 
ruined  himself.  Gabriel  and  Pierquin  were  obliged  to  allow 
him  a  fixed  sum  every  month  to  pay  for  necessary  expenses, 
and  the  money  was  paid  to  Le  Mulquinier.  The  old  servant 
had  sacrificed  his  savings  a  second  time  to  his  master.  Bal- 
thazar saw  no  one,  not  even  his  own  children  were  admitted 
into  the  house.  Josette  and  Martha  were  both  dead ;  the 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  213 

coachman,  the  cook,  and  the  rest  of  the  servants  had  been 
dismissed  one  after  another,  and  the  horses  and  carriages  had 
been  sold.  Although  Le  Mulquinier  was  discreet  and  taci- 
turn, there  was  too  good  ground  for  believing  that  the  money 
which  Gabriel  Claes  and  Pierquin  allowed  him  for  necessaries 
was  spent  on  his  experiments.  Indeed,  Gabriel  and  Pierquin 
were  paying  the  interest  of  a  mortgage  on  the  Maison  Claes, 
effected  without  their  knowledge,  lest  the  house  should  be  sold 
above  his  head.  None  of  his  children  had  any  influence  with 
the  old  man  of  seventy,  who  still  possessed  such  extraordinary 
energy  and  determination  even  in  trifles.  It  was  just  possible 
that  Marguerite  might  regain  her  old  ascendancy  over  him,  and 
Felicie  begged  her  sister  to  come  home  at  once ;  she  was  in 
terror  lest  her  father  should  have  put  his  name  to  bills  once 
more.  Gabriel,  Conyncks,  and  Pierquin  had  taken  alarm  at 
this  persistent  madness  which  had  spent  seven  millions  of 
francs  without  result,  and  had  decided  not  to  pay  M.  Claes' 
debts.  This  letter  changed  Marguerite's  traveling  plans ;  she 
took  the  shortest  way  home  to  Douai.  With  her  past  savings 
and  newly  acquired  wealth  it  would  be  easy  to  pay  her  father's 
debts  once  more ;  but  she  determined  to  do  more  than  this,  she 
would  fulfill  her  mother's  wishes ;  Balthazar  Claes  should  not 
sink  into  a  dishonored  grave.  Clearly  she  alone  had  sufficient 
influence  with  him  to  prevent  him  from  carrying  out  his 
ruinous  career  to  its  natural  end,  at  a  time  of  life  when  great 
results  could  scarcely  be  expected  from  his  enfeebled  powers ; 
but  she  wished  to  persuade  him,  and  not  to  wound  his  suscep- 
tibilities, fearing  to  imitate  the  children  of  Sophocles;  pos- 
sibly her  father,  after  all,  was  nearing  the  solution  of  the 
scientific  problem  to  which  he  had  sacrificed  so  much. 

M.  and  Mme.  de  Solis  reached  Flanders  in  1831,  and 
arrived  in  Douai  one  morning  towards  the  end  of  September. 
Marguerite  ordered  the  coachman  to  drive  to  her  house 
in  the  Rue  de  Paris,  and  found  it  shut  up ;  a  violent 
ring  at  the  door  bell  produced  no  answer.  A  shopkeeper,. 


214  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

who  lived  opposite,  left  his  doorstep,  whither  he  had  been 
brought  by  the  noise  of  the  carriages  ;  many  of  the  neighbors 
were  at  their  windows,  partly  because  they  were  glad  to  see 
the  return  of  a  family  so  much  beloved  in  the  town,  partly 
stirred  by  a  vague  feeling  of  curiosity  as  to  what  might 
happen  when  Marguerite  came  back  to  the  Maison  Claes. 
The  shopkeeper  told  the  Comte  de  Solis'  man  that  old 
M.  Claes  had  left  the  house  about  an  hour  before.  Le  Mul- 
quinier  had  doubtless  taken  him  to  walk  upon  the  ramparts. 

Marguerite  sent  for  a  locksmith  to  force  open  the  door,  so 
as  to  avoid  a  scene  with  her  father,  if  (as  Felicie's  letter  had 
led  her  to  expect)  he  should  refuse  to  allow  her  to  enter  the 
house.  Emmanuel  himself,  meanwhile,  went  in  search  of  the 
old  man  to  bring  him  the  news  of  his  daughter's  arrival,  and 
dispatched  his  man  with  a  message  to  M.  and  Mme.  Pierquin. 

It  did  not  take  long  to  force  open  the  door.  Marguerite 
went  to  the  parlor  to  give  directions  about  their  baggage.  A 
shiver  of  horror  went  through  her  as  she  entered — the  walls 
were  as  bare  as  if  a  fire  had  swept  over  them.  Van  Huysium's 
wonderful  carvings  and  the  portrait  of  the  great  Claes  had 
been  sold  to  Lord  Spencer,  so  some  one  said.  The  dining- 
room  was  empty ;  there  was  nothing  there  but  two  straw- 
bottomed  chairs,  and  a  wretched  table,  on  which  Marguerite 
saw,  with  dreadful  misgivings,  a  couple  of  bowls  and  plates, 
two  silver  spoons  and  forks,  and,  on  a  dish,  the  remains  of  a 
herring,  the  meal,  doubtless,  of  which  Claes  and  his  servant 
had  just  partaken.  As  she  hurried  through  the  state  apart- 
ments, she  saw  that  every  room  was  as  bare  and  forlorn  as  the 
parlor  and  the  dining-room  ;  the  idea  of  the  Absolute  seemed 
to  have  passed  through  the  whole  house  like  a  fire. 

For  all  furniture  in  her  father's  room,  there  was  a  bed,  a 
chair,  and  a  table;  a  tallow  candle  burned  down  to  the 
socket  stood  in  a  battered  copper  candlestick.  The  house 
had  been  stripped  so  completely  that  there  were  no  curtains 
in  the  windows ;  everything  that  could  bring  in  a  few  pence, 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  215 

even  the  kitchen  utensils,  had  been  sold.  Drawn  by  the  feel- 
ing of  curiosity  that  survives  in  us  even  in  the  deepest  misfor- 
tune, Marguerite  looked  into  Le  Mulquinier's  room ;  it  was 
as  bare  and  empty  as  his  master's.  The  drawer  in  the  table 
stood  half-open,  and  Marguerite  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  pawn- 
ticket ;  the  servant  had  pledged  his  watch  a  few  days  pre- 
viously. She  hastened  to  the  attic ;  the  laboratory  was  as 
well  replenished  as  it  used  to  be ;  finally,  she  had  the  door  of 
her  own  room  forced  open  ;  everything  was  as  she  had  left  it, 
her  father  had  respected  her  apartment. 

Marguerite  glanced  round  her,  burst  into  tears,  and  in  her 
heart  forgave  her  father.  Even  in  the  frenzy  of  enthusiasm, 
which  spared  nothing  else,  he  had  been  checked  by  fatherly 
love  and  a  feeling  of  gratitude  towards  her.  This  proof  of 
tenderness,  received  in  the  depths  of  her  despair,  wrought  in 
Marguerite  one  of  those  revulsions  which  prove  too  strong  for 
the  coldest  hearts.  She  went  down  to  the  parlor,  and  waited 
for  her  father's  coming,  with  an  anxiety  which  was  increased 
by  horrible  fears ;  she  was  about  to  see  him,  would  he  be 
changed  ?  Should  she  see  a  decrepit,  ailing  wreck,  emaciated 
by  fastings  endured  through  pride  ?  Suppose  his  reason  had 
failed?  Her  tears  flowed  fast  in  the  profaned  sanctuary. 
Scenes  of  her  past  life  rose  up  before  her.  She  remembered 
her  struggles,  her  vain  attempts  to  save  her  father  from  him- 
self, her  childish  days,  the  mother  who  had  been  so  happy 
and  so  unhappy ;  everything  about  her,  even  the  face  of  her 
little  Joseph  who  smiled  on  the  desolation,  seemed  to  form 
part  of  some  unreal,  mournful  tragedy. 

But  for  all  her  sad  forebodings,  she  did  not  foresee  the  catas- 
trophe of  the  drama  of  her  father's  life,  a  life  so  magnificent 
and  so  wretched.  Claes'  affairs  were  no  secret.  To  the 
shame  of  humanity,  there  were  no  generous  natures  to  be 
found  in  Douai  who  could  reverence  the  passionate  persistence 
of  the  man  of  genius.  Balthazar  was  put  under  the  ban  of 
society;  he  was  a  bad  father,  who  had  run  through  half-a- 


216  THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

dozen  fortunes,  who  had  spent  millions  of  francs  on  the  search 
of  the  philosopher's  stone  in  this  enlightened  nineteenth  cen- 
tury, the  century  of  incredulity,  etc. He  was  maligned 

and  calumniated;  he  was  branded  with  the  contemptuous 
epithet  of  "The  alchemist."  "He  wants  to  make  gold!  " 
They  scoffed,  and  cast  it  in  his  teeth. 

Has  this  much-lauded  century  of  ours  shown  itself  so  dif- 
ferent from  all  other  centuries?  It  has  left  genius  to  die  with 
the  brutal  indifference  of  past  ages  that  beheld  the  deaths  of 
Dante,  Cervantes,  Tasso,  e  tutti  quanti ;  and  ordinary  mortals 
recognize  the  work  of  genius  even  more  slowly  than  kings. 

So  these  opinions  concerning  Claes  had  gradually  filtered 
downwards  from  the  aristocratic  section  to  the  bourgeoisie, 
and  from  the  bourgeoisie  to  the  masses.  Profound  compassion 
was  felt  for  the  aged  chemist  by  people  of  his  own  rank,  and 
the  populace  looked  on  him  with  a  sort  of  amused  curiosity ; 
both  ways  of  regarding  him  implied  the  scornful  Vae  victis 
with  which  the  crowd  closes  over  fallen  greatness. 

People,  as  they  went  past  the  house,  used  to  point  out  the 
rose-window  of  the  attic  where  so  much  gold  and  coal  had 
been  wasted.  When  Balthazar  went  along  the  street,  they 
pointed  the  finger  at  him ;  his  appearance  was  often  the  signal 
for  a  joke  or  a  pitying  word  from  the  children  or  workpeople ; 
but  Le  Mulquinier,  ever  on  the  watch,  translated  the  whisper- 
ings into  a  murmur  of  admiration  for  his  master,  who  never 
suspected  the  real  truth. 

Balthazar's  eyes  still  preserved  the  wonderful  clearness 
which  an  inward  vision  of  great  ideas  had  given  to  them,  but 
he  had  grown  deaf.  For  the  peasants,  and  for  vulgar  or  super- 
stitious minds,  the  old  man  was  a  wizard.  The  old  and 
splendid  home  of  the  Claes  was  spoken  of  in  narrow  streets 
and  country  cottages  as  the  "Devil's  House;  "  nothing  was 
lacking  to  give  color  to  these  absurd  tales ;  even  Le  Mulqui- 
nier's  appearance  gave  rise  to  some  of  the  lying  legends  about 
his  master.  When,  therefore,  the  poor,  faithful,  old  servant 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  217 

went  out  to  buy  their  scanty  supply  of  necessaries  in  the 
market,  he  not  only  paid  higher  prices  than  any  one  else  for 
his  meagre  purchases,  but  he  could  buy  nothing  without  re- 
ceiving insults  thrown  in  as  a  sort  of  make:weight ;  he  even 
thought  himself  lucky  if  the  superstitious  market-women  did 
not  refuse  to  supply  him  with  his  miserable  pittance  of  food, 
for  it  too  often  happened  that  they  were  afraid  to  endanger 
their  souls  by  dealing  with  a  tool  of  Satan. 

The  general  feeling  of  the  town  was  hostile  to  the  old 
great  man  and  the  companion  of  his  labors.  They  were  not 
the  better  thought  of  because  they  were  ill  clad  and  wore  the 
shabby  clothing  of  decent  poverty  that  shrinks  from  begging. 
Open  insult  was  sure  to  be  offered  them  sooner  or  later ;  and 
Pierquin,  for  the  sake  of  his  family,  always  took  the  precau- 
tion of  sending  two  or  three  of  his  servants  to  follow  the  old 
men  at  a  distance,  and  to  interfere,  if  necessary,  to  protect 
them,  for  the  influence  of  the  Revolution  of  July  had  not 
improved  the  manners  of  the  populace. 

By  some  inexplicable  chance  Claes  and  Le  Mulquinier  had 
gone  out  early  that  morning,  and  M.  and  Mme.  Pierquin's 
secret  vigilance  was  for  once  at  fault ;  the  two  old  men  were 
out  alone  in  the  town.  On  their  way  home  they  sat  down  to 
rest  in  the  Place  Saint- Jacques,  on  a  bench  in  the  sun.  Boys 
and  children  were  continually  passing  by  on  their  way  to 
school,  and  when  they  looked  across  the  square  and  saw  the 
two  helpless  old  men,  whose  faces  brightened  as  they  basked 
in  the  sunlight,  the  children  made  little  groups,  and  began  to 
talk.  Children's  chatter  usually  ends  in  laughter,  and  laugh- 
ter leads  to  mischief,  which  has  no  cruel  intention.  Seven  or 
eight  of  the  first-comers  stood  at  a  little  distance  and  stared 
at  the  strange  old  faces  ;  Le  Mulquinier  heard  their  smothered 
laughter. 

"There,"  cried  one,  "do  you  see  that  one  with  the  fore- 
head like  a  knee?  " 

"Yes." 


218  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

"Well,  then,  he  is  a  born  wise  man." 

"  Papa  says  he  makes  gold,"  put  in  another. 

"  Gold  ?  What  way  does  he  make  it  ?  "  asked  a  third,  with 
a  contemptuous  gesture. 

The  smallest  of  the  children,  who  carried  a  basket  full  of 
provisions,  and  was  munching  a  slice  of  bread  and  butter, 
went  artlessly  up  to  the  bench,  and  said  to  Le  Mulquinier — 

"Is  it  true  that  you  make  pearls  and  diamonds,  sir?  " 

"Yes,  little  man,"  said  Le  Mulquinier,  smiling,  and  pat- 
ting his  cheeks,  "  learn  your  lessons,  and  grow  very  wise,  and 
we  will  give  you  some." 

"  Oh,  sir  !  give  me  some  too  !  "  was  the  general  cry. 

All  the  children  scampered  up  and  crowded  about  the 
two  chemists  like  a  flock  of  birds ;  their  cries  roused  Balthazar 
from  his  musings ;  he  gave  a  start  that  made  them  laugh. 

"Ah!  you  little  rascals,  respect  a  great  man!"  said 
Le  Mulquinier. 

"A  harlequin!"  shouted  the  children;  "you  are  sor- 
cerers ! yes,  sorcerers  !  old  sorcerers  !  sorcerers,  ah  !  " 

Le  Mulquinier  sprang  to  his  feet,  raised  his  cane,  and 
threatened  the  children,  who  promptly  fled,  and  picked  up 
stones  and  mud.  A  workman  who  was  eating  his  breakfast 
not  far  away  looked  up  and  saw  Le  Mulquinier  take  his  cane 
to  drive  the  children  away,  thought  that  he  had  beaten  them, 
and  came  to  their  aid  with  the  formidable  cry,  "  Down  with 
the  sorcerers ! ' ' 

Thus  encouraged,  the  children  were  pelting  the  two  old 
men  with  stones  as  the  Comte  de  Solis,  followed  by  Pierquin's 
servants,  came  into  the  square.  They  were  too  late  to  stop 
the  shower  of  mud  with  which  the  children  bespattered  the 
great  man  and  his  servant;  the  mischief  was  done.  Balthazar 
had  hitherto  preserved  the  full  force  of  his  faculties  by  the 
monastic  habits  and  temperate  life  of  a  man  of  science,  in 
whom  one  all-absorbing  passion  had  extinguished  all  others. 
In  the  course  of  his  ruminations  the  meaning  of  this  scene 


THE    QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  219 

suddenly  dawned  on  him.  The  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling, 
the  contrast  between  the  ideal  world  in  which  he  lived  and 
the  real  world  about  him,  was  too  great  a  shock ;  he  fell  into 
Le  Mulquinier's  arms,  struck  down  by  paralysis.  He  was 
carried  home  on  a  stretcher,  his  two  sons-in-law  and  the  ser- 
vants going  with  him.  Nothing  could  prevent  the  crowd  that 
gathered  from  following  the  old  man  to  his  house.  Felicie 
and  her  children  were  there  already,  and  Gabriel  and  his 
wife  had  come  from  Cambrai,  hearing  through  their  sister  of 
Marguerite's  return. 

The  old  man's  return  to  his  house  was  piteous  to  see. 
Even  as  he  lay  between  life  and  death  his  chief  terror  seemed 
to  be  the  thought  that  his  children  would  discover  the  wretch- 
edness in  which  he  had  been  living.  As  soon  as  a  bed  could 
be  made  up  in  the  parlor,  every  care  was  bestowed  on  Bal- 
thazar, and  towards  the  end  of  the  day  some  hopes  of  his 
recovery  were  entertained.  But  in  spite  of  all  that  skill  could 
do,  the  paralysis  had  left  him  in  an  almost  childish  condition. 
After  the  other  symptoms  had  abated,  his  speech  was  still 
affected,  perhaps  because  anger  had  taken  all  power  to  speak 
from  him  when  he  attempted  to  remonstrate  with  the  children. 

General  indignation  was  felt  in  the  town  when  the  news  of 
the  affair  became  known.  Some  mysterious  law  working  in 
the  minds  of  men  had  wrought  a  revulsion  of  feeling,  and  M. 
Claes  regained  his  popularity.  He  suddenly  became  a  great 
man.  All  the  admiration  and  esteem  which  had  been  so  long 
withdrawn  was  his  again.  Every  one  praised  his  patient  toil, 
his  courage,  his  strength  of  will,  his  genius.  The  magistrates 
were  disposed  to  treat  the  small  delinquents  very  harshly ;  but 
the  evil  was  done,  and  Claes'  own  family  were  the  first  to  ask 
that  the  affair  should  be  smoothed  over. 

The  parlor  was  refurnished  by  Marguerite's  directions,  silken 
hangings  covered  the  bare  walls  where  the  carved  panels  once 
had  been  ;  and  when,  a  few  days  after  his  seizure,  Claes  recov- 
ered the  use  of  his  faculties,  he  found  himself  among  luxurious 


220  THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

surroundings ;  nothing  that  could  contribute  to  his  comfort 
had  been  forgotten.  Marguerite  came  into  the  parlor  just  as 
he  tried  to  say  that  surely  she  must  have  come  back.  A  flush 
came  over  Balthazar's  face  at  the  sight  of  her ;  his  eyes  were 
full  of  tears  that  did  not  fall ;  he  was  still  able  to  grasp  his 
daughter's  hand  in  his  cold  fingers,  and  in  this  pressure  he  put 
all  the  feelings  and  the  thoughts  that  he  could  not  utter. 
There  was  something  very  sacred  and  solemn  in  this  farewell, 
from  a  dying  brain  and  a  heart  to  which  gratitude  had  brought 
back  some  of  the  glow  of  the  warmth  of  life. 

Exhausted  by  all  his  fruitless  labors,  worn  out  by  his  wrest- 
lings with  a  giant  problem,  seeing,  perhaps,  with  despair  in  his 
heart,  the  oblivion  that  waited  for  his  memory,  the  Titan 
neared  the  end  of  his  life.  Everything  about  him  spoke  of  his 
children's  reverent  affection.  There  were  signs  of  wealth  and 
plenty,  if  these  things  could  have  rejoiced  his  eyes;  the  fair 
picture  of  their  faces  to  gladden  his  heart.  He  could  now 
only  express  his  affection  for  them  by  looks,  and  his  eyes  were 
always  full  of  tenderness ;  it  was  as  if  they  had  suddenly 
acquired  a  strange  and  varied  power  of  speech,  and  the  light 
that  shone  in  them  was  a  language  easy  to  understand. 

Marguerite  paid  her  father's  debts ;  and  though  the  ancient 
glories  of  the  house  of  Claes  had  departed,  it  was  shortly 
refurnished  with  a  magnificence  that  effaced  all  memories  of 
its  forlorn  condition.  She  was  never  absent  from  Balthazar's 
bedside,  and  strove  to  guess  his  thoughts  and  to  anticipate 
his  slightest  wish  ;  never  in  action  or  word  displaying  aught 
but  the  tenderest  affection  for  him. 

Several  months  went  by  in  alternations  of  hope  and  despair 
that  mark  the  progress  of  the  final  struggle  between  life  and 
death  in  an  aged  frame.  His  children  came  to  see  him  every 
morning,  and  spent  the  day  in  his  room ;  they  dined  there  in 
the  parlor  by  his  bedside,  and  only  left  him  while  he  slept. 
The  newspapers  seemed  to  be  his  principal  resource ;  he  took 
a  great  interest  in  the  political  events  of  the  time,  listening 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.  221 

attentively  to  M.  de  Solis,  who  read  them  aloud  to  him,  and 
sat  close  beside  him  that  he  might  hear  every  word. 

One  night  towards  the  end  of  the  year  1832  Balthazar's 
condition  grew  critical;  the  nurse,  alarmed  by  a  sudden 
change  in  the  patient,  sent  for  Dr.  Pierquin,  and  when  he 
came,  he  decided  to  remain ;  Claes'  convulsions  seemed  so 
like  the  agony  of  death  that  the  doctor  feared  any  moment 
might  be  his  last. 

The  old  man  was  struggling  against  the  paralysis  that  bound 
his  limbs.  He  made  incredible  efforts  to  speak;  his  lips 
moved,  but  no  sound  came  from  them ;  his  thoughts  seemed 
to  blaze  from  his  eyes ;  his  face  was  drawn  with  unheard-of 
anguish ;  great  drops  of  perspiration  broke  out  on  his  fore- 
head ;  his  fingers  twitched  nervously  in  his  despair. 

That  morning  when  his  children  came  and  embraced  him 
with  the  affection  that  grew  more  intense  and  more  clinging 
with  the  near  approach  of  death,  he  showed  none  of  the 
happiness  that  he  always  felt  in  their  tenderness. 

Emmanuel,  at  a  warning  glance  from  Pierquin,  hastily  tore 
the  newspaper  from  its  wrapper,  thinking  that  perhaps  the 
reading  might  divert  Balthazar's  mind  from  his  physical  suffer- 
ings. As  he  unfolded  the  sheet  the  words  DISCOVERY  OF  THE 
ABSOLUTE  caught  his  eyes  and  startled  him,  and  he  read  the 
paragraph  to  Marguerite  under  his  breath.  It  told  of  a  bar- 
gain concluded  by  a  celebrated  Polish  mathematician  for  the 
secret  of  the  Absolute,  which  he  had  discovered.  At  the  con- 
clusion of  the  paragraph  Marguerite  asked  her  husband  for 
the  paper,  but,  low  as  the  tones  of  his  voice  had  been, 
Balthazar  had  heard  him. 

Suddenly  the  dying  man  raised  himself  on  his  elbows ;  his 
glance  seemed  like  lightning  to  his  terror-stricken  children, 
the  hair  that  fringed  his  temples  rose,  every  wrinkle  in  his 
face  quivered  with  excitement,  a  breath  of  inspiration  passed 
over  his  face  and  made  it  sublime.  He  raised  a  hand,  clenched 
in  frenzy,  with  the  cry  of  Archimedes — EUREKA  !  (/  have 


222 


THE   QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 


found  iff)  he  called  in  piercing  tones,  then  he  fell  heavily 
back  like  a  dead  body,  and  died  with  an  awful  moan.  His 
despair  could  be  read  in  the  frenzied  expression  of  his  eyes 
until  the  doctor  closed  them.  He  could  not  leave  to  science 
the  solution  of  the  great  enigma  revealed  to  him  too  late,  as 
the  veil  was  torn  asunder  by  the  fleshless  fingers  of  Death. 


THE  UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE. 

(Le  Chef  (Tceuvre  inconnu.} 

To  a  Lord. 
I.   GILLETTE. 

ON  a  cold  December  morning  in  the  year  1612,  a  young 
man,  whose  clothing  was  somewhat  of  the  thinnest,  was  walk- 
ing to  and  fro  before  a  gateway  in  the  Rue  des  Grands- 
Augustins  in  Paris.  He  went  up  and  down  the  street  before 
this  house  with  the  irresolution  of  a  gallant  who  dares  not 
venture  into  the  presence  of  the  woman  whom  he  loves  for 
the  first  time,  easy  of  access  though  she  may  be ;  but  after  a 
sufficiently  long  interval  of  hesitation,  he  at  last  crossed  the 
threshold  and  inquired  of  an  old  woman,  who  was  sweeping 
out  a  large  room  on  the  ground  floor,  whether  Master  Porbus 
was  within.  Receiving  a  reply  in  the  affirmative,  the  young 
man  went  slowly  up  the  staircase,  like  a  gentleman  but  newly 
come  to  court,  and  doubtful  as  to  his  reception  by  the  king. 
He  came  to  a  stand  once  more  on  the  landing  at  the  head  of 
the  stairs,  and  again  he  hesitated  before  raising  his  hand  to 
the  grotesque  knocker  on  the  door  of  the  studio,  where  doubt- 
less the  painter  was  at  work — Master  Porbus,  sometime  painter 
in  ordinary  to  Henri  IV.  till  Marie  de  Medicis  took  Rubens 
into  favor. 

The  young  man  felt  deeply  stirred  by  an  emotion  that  must 
thrill  the  hearts  of  all  great  artists  when,  in  the  pride  of  their 
youth  and  their  first  love  of  art,  they  come  into  the  presence  of 
a  master  or  stand  before  a  masterpiece.  For  all  human  senti- 
ments there  is  a  time  of  early  blossoming,  a  day  of  generous 
enthusiasm  that  gradually  fades  until  nothing  is  left  of  happi- 

(223) 


224  THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE. 

ness  but  a  memory,  and  glory  is  known  for  a  delusion.  Of 
all  these  delicate  and  short-lived  emotions,  none  so  resemble 
love  as  the  passion  of  a  young  artist  for  his  art,  as  he  is  about 
to  enter  on  the  blissful  martyrdom  of  his  career  of  glory  and 
disaster,  of  vague  expectations  and  real  disappointments. 

Those  who  have  missed  this  experience  in  the  early  days  of 
light  purses  ;  who  have  not,  in  the  dawn  of  their  genius,  stood 
in  the  presence  of  a  master  and  felt  the  throbbing  of  their 
hearts,  will  always  carry  in  their  inmost  souls  a  chord  that  has 
never  been  touched,  and  in  their  work  an  indefinable  quality 
will  be  lacking,  a  something  in  the  stroke  of  the  brush,  a 
mysterious  element  that  we  call  poetry.  The  swaggerers,  so 
puffed  up  by  self-conceit  that  they  are  overly  confident  of 
their  success,  can  never  be  taken  for  men  of  talent  save  by 
fools.  From  this  point  of  view,  if  youthful  modesty  is  the 
measure  of  youthful  genius,  the  stranger  on  the  staircase  might 
be  allowed  to  have  something  in  him ;  for  he  seemed  to  pos- 
sess the  indescribable  diffidence,  the  early  timidity  that  artists 
are  bound  to  lose  in  the  course  of  a  great  career,  even  as 
pretty  women  lose  it  as  they  make  progress  in  the  arts  of 
coquetry.  Self-distrust  vanishes  as  triumph  succeeds  to  tri- 
umph, and  modesty  is,  perhaps,  distrust  of  self. 

The  poor  neophyte  was  so  overcome  by  the  consciousness 
of  his  own  presumption  and  insignificance,  that  it  began  to 
look  as  if  he  was  hardly  likely  to  penetrate  into  the  studio  of 
the  painter,  to  whom  we  owe  the  wonderful  portrait  of  Henri 
IV.  But  fate  was  propitious ;  an  old  man  came  up  the  stair- 
case. From  the  quaint  costume  of  this  new-comer,  his  collar 
of  magnificent  lace,  and  a  certain  serene  gravity  in  his  bear- 
ing, the  first  arrival  thought  that  this  personage  must  be  either 
a  patron  or  a  friend  of  the  court  painter.  He  stood  aside 
therefore  upon  the  landing  to  allow  the  visitor  to  pass,  scru- 
tinizing him  curiously  the  while.  Perhaps  he  might  hope  to 
find  the  good  nature  of  an  artist  or  to  receive  the  good  offices 
of  an  amateur  not  unfriendly  to  the  arts;  but  besides  an 


THE   OLDER   MAN     ,  .     KNOCKED   THRICE    AT  THE    DOOR. 


THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE.  225 

almost  diabolical  expression  in  the  face  that  met  his  gaze, 
there  was  that  indescribable  something  which  has  an  irresistible 
attraction  for  artists. 

Picture  that  face.  A  bald  high  forehead  and  rugged  jutting 
brows  above  a  small  flat  nose  turned  up  at  the  end,  as  in  the 
portraits  of  Socrates  and  Rabelais ;  deep  lines  about  the  mock- 
ing mouth ;  a  short  chin,  carried  proudly,  covered  with  a 
grizzled  pointed  beard ;  sea-green  eyes  that  age  might  seem  to 
have  dimmed  were  it  not  for  the  contrast  between  the  iris  and 
the  surrounding  mother-of-pearl  tints,  so  that  it  seemed  as  if 
under  the  stress  of  anger  or  enthusiasm  there  would  be  a  mag- 
netic power  to  quell  or  kindle  in  their  glances.  The  face  was 
withered  beyond  wont  by  the  fatigue  of  years,  yet  it  seemed 
aged  still  more  by  the  thoughts  that  had  worn  away  both  soul 
and  body.  There  were  no  lashes  to  the  deep-set  eyes,  and 
scarcely  a  trace  of  the  arching  lines  of  the  eyebrows  above 
them.  Set  this  head  on  a  spare  and  feeble  frame,  place  it  in 
a  frame  of  lace  wrought  like  an  engraved  silver  fish-slice,  im- 
agine a  heavy  gold  chain  over  the  old  man's  black  doublet, 
and  you  will  have  some  dim  idea  of  this  strange  personage, 
who  seemed  still  more  fantastic  in  the  sombre  twilight  of  the 
staircase.  One  of  Rembrandt's  portraits  might  have  stepped 
down  from  its  frame  to  walk  in  an  appropriate  atmosphere  of 
gloom,  such  as  the  great  painter  loved.  The  older  man  gave 
the  younger  a  shrewd  glance,  and  knocked  thrice  at  the  door. 
It  was  opened  by  a  man  of  forty  or  thereabouts,  who  seemed 
to  be  an  invalid. 

"Good-day,  master." 

Probus  bowed  respectfully,  and  held  the  door  open  for  the 
younger  man  to  enter,  thinking  that  the  latter  accompanied 
his  visitor ;  and  when  he  saw  that  the  neophyte  stood  awhile 
as  if  spellbound,  feeling,  as  every  artist-nature  must  feel,  the 
fascinating  influence  of  the  first  sight  of  a  studio  in  which  the 
material  processes  of  art  are  revealed,  Probus  troubled  himself 
no  more  about  this  second  comer. 
15 


226  THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE. 

All  the  light  in  the  studio  came  from  a  window  in  the  roof 
and  was  concentrated  upon  an  easel,  where  a  canvas  stood  un- 
touched as  yet  save  for  three  or  four  outlines  in  chalk.  The 
daylight  scarcely  reached  the  remoter  angles  and  corners  of 
the  vast  room  ;  they  were  as  dark  as  night,  but  the  silver  orna- 
mented breastplate  of  a  Reiter's  corslet,  that  hung  upon  the 
wall,  attracted  a  stray  gleam  to  its  dim  abiding- place  among 
the  brown  shadows ;  or  a  shaft  of  light  shot  across  the  carved 
and  glistening  surface  of  an  antique  sideboard  covered  with 
curious  silver-plate,  or  struck  out  a  line  of  glittering  dots 
among  the  raised  threads  of  the  golden  warp  of  some  old  bro- 
caded curtains,  where  the  lines  of  the  stiff  heavy  folds  were 
broken,  as  the  stuff  had  been  flung  carelessly  down  to  serve  as 
a  model. 

Plaster  Scorches  stood  about  the  room ;  and  here  and 
there,  on  shelves  and  tables,  lay  fragments  of  classical  sculp- 
ture— torsos  of  antique  goddesses,  worn  smooth  as  though  all 
the  years  of  the  centuries  that  had  passed  over  them  had  been 
lovers'  kisses.  The  walls  were  covered,  from  floor  to  ceiling, 
with  countless  sketches  of  charcoal,  red  chalk,  or  pen  and  ink. 
Amid  the  litter  and  confusion  of  color  boxes,  overturned 
stools,  flasks  of  oil,  and  essences,  there  was  just  room  to 
move  so  as  to  reach  the  illuminated  circular  space  where  the 
easel  stood.  The  light  from  the  window  in  the  roof  fell  full 
upon  Porbus'  pale  face  and  on  the  ivory-tinted  forehead  of 
his  strange  visitor.  But  in  another  moment  the  younger  man 
heeded  nothing  but  a  picture  that  had  already  become  famous 
even  in  those  stormy  days  of  political  and  religious  revolutions, 
a  picture  that  a  few  of  the  zealous  worshipers,  who  have  so 
often  kept  the  sacred  fire  of  art  alive  in  evil  days,  were  wont 
to  go  on  pilgrimages  to  see.  The  beautiful  panel  represented 
a  Saint  Mary  of  Egypt  about  to  pay  her  passage  across  the 
seas.  It  was  a  masterpiece  destined  for  Marie  de  M£dicis, 
who  sold  it  in  later  years  of  poverty. 

"I  like  your  saint,"  the  old  man  remarked,  addressing 


THE   UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE.  227 

Porbus.  "  I  would  give  you  ten  golden  crowns  for  her  over 
and  above  the  price  the  Queen  is  paying ;  but  as  for  putting  a 
spoke  in  that  wheel — the  devil  take  it !  " 

"It  is  good  then?" 

"Hey!  hey!"  said  the  old  man;  "good,  say  you? — 
Yes  and  no.  Your  good  woman  is  not  badly  done,  but  she 
is  not  alive.  You  artists  fancy  that  when  a  figure  is  correctly 
drawn,  and  everything  in  its  place  according  to  the  rules  of 
anatomy,  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  done.  You  make  up 
the  flesh  tints  beforehand  on  your  palettes  according  to  your 
formulae,  and  fill  in  the  outlines  with  due  care  that  one  side 
of  the  face  shall  be  darker  than  the  other ;  and  because  you 
look  from  time  to  time  at  a  naked  woman  who  stands  on  the 
platform  before  you,  you  fondly  imagine  that  you  have  copied 
nature,  think  yourselves  to  be  painters,  believe  that  you  have 
wrested  His  secret  from  God.  Pshaw  !  You  may  know  your 
syntax  thoroughly  and  make  no  blunders  in  your  grammar, 
but  it  takes  that  and  something  more  to  make  a  great  poet. 
Look  at  your  saint,  Porbus !  At  a  first  glance,  she  is  admi- 
rable ;  look  at  her  again,  and  you  see  at  once  that  she  is  glued 
to  the  background,  and  that  you  could  not  walk  round  her. 
She  is  a  silhouette  that  turns  but  one  side  of  her  face  to  all 
beholders,  a  figure  cut  out  of  canvas,  an  image  with  no  power 
to  move  nor  change  her  position.  I  feel  as  if  there  were  no 
air  between  that  arm  and  the  background,  no  space,  no  sense 
of  distance  in  your  canvas.  The  perspective  is  perfectly  cor- 
rect, the  strength  of  the  coloring  is  accurately  diminished 
with  the  distance ;  but,  in  spite  of  these  praiseworthy  efforts, 
I  could  never  bring  myself  to  believe  that  the  warm  breath 
of  life  comes  and  goes  in  that  beautiful  body.  It 
seems  to  me  that  if  I  laid  my  hand  on  the  firm  rounded 
throat,  it  would  be  cold  as  marble  to  the  touch.  No,  my 
friend,  the  blood  does  not  flow  beneath  that  ivory  skin,  the 
tide  of  life  does  not  flush  those  delicate  fibres,  the  purple 
veins  that  trace  a  network  beneath  the  transparent  amber  of 


228  THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE. 

her  brow  and  breast.  Here  the  pulse  seems  to  beat,  there  it 
is  motionless,  life  and  death  are  at  strife  in  every  detail.  Here 
you  see  a  woman,  there  a  statue,  there  again  a  corpse.  Your 
creation  is  incomplete.  You  had  only  power  to  breathe  a 
portion  of  your  soul  into  your  beloved  work.  The  fire  of 
Prometheus  died  out  again  and  again  in  your  hands ;  many  a 
spot  in  your  picture  has  not  been  touched  by '  the  divine 
flame." 

"But  how  is  it,  dear  master?"  Porbus  asked  respectfully, 
while  the  young  man  with  difficulty  repressed  his  strong  de- 
sire to  beat  the  critic. 

"Ah!  "  said  the  old  man,  "it  is  this!  You  have  halted 
between  two  manners.  You  have  hesitated  between  drawing 
and  color,  between  the  dogged  attention  to  detail,  the  stiff 
precision  of  the  German  masters  and  the  dazzling  glow, 
the  joyous  exuberance  of  Italian  painters.  You  have 
set  yourselves  to  imitate  Hans  Holbein  and  Titian,  Albrecht 
Diirer  and  Paul  Veronese  in  a  single  picture.  A  magnificent 
ambition  truly,  but  what  has  come  of  it.  Your  work  has 
neither  the  severe  charm  of  a  dry  execution  nor  the  magical 
illusion  of  Italian  chiaro-oscuro.  Titian's  rich  golden  coloring 
poured  into  Albrecht  Durer's  austere  outlines  has  shattered 
them,  like  molten  bronze  bursting  through  the  mould  that  is 
not  strong  enough  to  hold  it.  In  other  places  the  outlines 
have  held  firm,  imprisoning  and  obscuring  the  magnificent 
glowing  flood  of  Venetian  color.  The  drawing  of  the  face 
is  not  perfect,  the  coloring  is  not  perfect ;  traces  of  that  un- 
lucky indecision  are  to  be  seen  everywhere.  Unless  you  felt 
strong  enough  to  fuse  the  two  opposed  manners  in  the  fire  of 
your  own  genius,  you  should  have  cast  in  your  lot  boldly  with 
the  one  or  the  other,  and  so  have  obtained  the  unity  which 
simulates  one  of  the  conditions  of  life  itself.  Your  work  is 
only  true  in  the  centres ;  your  outlines  are  false,  they  project 
nothing,  there  is  no  hint  of  anything  behind  them.  There  is 
truth  here,"  said  the  old  man,  pointing  to  the  breast  of  the 


THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE.  229 

saint,  "and  again  here,"  he  went  on,  indicating  the  rounded 
shoulder.  "But  there,"  once  more  returning  to  the  column 
of  the  throat,  "  everything  is  false.  Let  us  go  no  farther  into 
detail ;  you  would  be  disheartened." 

The  old  man  sat  down  on  a  stool,  and  remained  a  while 
without  speaking,  with  his  face  buried  in  his  hands. 

"Yet  I  studied  that  throat  from  the  life,  dear  master," 
Porbus  began ;  "  it  happens  sometimes,  for  our  misfortune, 
that  real  effects  in  nature  look  improbable  when  transferred  to 
canvas ' ' 

'•'  The  aim  of  art  is  not  to  copy  nature,  but  to  express  it. 
You  are  not  a  servile  copyist,  but  a  poet !  "  cried  the  old  man 
sharply,  cutting  Porbus  short  with  an  imperious  gesture. 
"  Otherwise  a  sculptor  might  make  a  plaster  cast  of  a 
living  woman  and  save  himself  all  further  trouble.  Well,  try 
to  make  a  cast  of  your  mistress'  hand,  and  set  up  the  thing 
before  you.  You  will  see  a  monstrosity,  a  dead  mass,  bearing 
no  resemblance  to  the  living  hand  :  you  would  be  compelled 
to  have  recourse  to  the  chisel  of  a  sculptor  who,  without  mak- 
ing an  exact  copy,  would  represent  for  you  its  movement  and 
its  life.  We  must  detect  the  spirit,  the  informing  soul  in  the 
appearances  of  things  and  beings.  Effects  !  What  are  effects 
but  the  accidents  of  life,  not  life  itself?  A  hand,  since  I 
have  taken  that  example,  is  not  only  a  part  of  a  body,  it  is 
the  expression  and  extension  of  a  thought  that  must  be  grasped 
and  rendered.  Neither  painter  nor  poet  nor  sculptor  may 
separate  the  effect  from  the  cause,  which  are  inevitably  con- 
tained the  one  in  the  other.  There  begins  the  real  struggle  ! 
Many  a  painter  achieves  success  instinctively,  unconscious  of 
the  task  that  is  set  before  art.  You  draw  a  woman,  yet  you 
do  not  see  her !  Not  so  do  you  succeed  in  wresting  nature's 
secrets  from  her  !  You  are  reproducing  mechanically  the 
model  that  you  copied  in  your  master's  studio.  You  do  not 
penetrate  far  enough  into  the  inmost  secrets  of  the  mystery 
of  form ;  you  do  not  seek  with  love  enough  and  perseverance 


230  THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE. 

enough  after  the  form  that  baffles  and  eludes  you.  Beauty  is 
a  thing  severe  and  unapproachable,  never  to  be  won  by  a 
languid  love.  You  must  lie  in  wait  for  her  coming  and 
take  her  unawares,  press  her  hard  and  clasp  her  in  a  tight 
embrace,  and  force  her  to  yield.  Form  is  a  Proteus  more 
intangible  and  more  manifold  than  the  Proteus  of  the  legend; 
compelled,  only  after  long  wrestling,  to  stand  forth  manifest 
in  his  true  aspect.  Some  of  you  are  satisfied  with  the  first 
shape,  or  at  most  by  the  second  or  the  third  that  appears. 
Not  thus  wrestle  the  victors,  the  unvanquished  painters  who 
never  suffer  themselves  to  be  deluded  by  all  those  treacherous 
shadow-shapes;  they  persevere  till  nature  at  the  last  stands 
bare  to  their  gaze,  and  her  very  soul  is  revealed. 

"In  this  manner  worked  Rafael,"  said  the  old  man,  taking 
off  his  cap  to  express  his  reverence  for  the  king  of  art.  "  His 
transcendent  greatness  came  of  the  intimate  sense  that,  in 
him,  seems  as  if  it  would  shatter  external  form.  Form  in  his 
figures  (as  with  us)  is  a  symbol,  a  means  of  communicating 
sensations,  ideas,  the  vast  imaginings  of  a  poet.  Every  face 
is  a  whole  world.  The  subject  of  the  portrait  appeared  for 
him  bathed  in  the  light  of  a  divine  vision  ;  it  was  revealed  by 
an  inner  voice,  the  finger  of  God  laid  bare  the  sources  of  ex- 
pression in  the  past  of  a  whole  life. 

"You  clothe  your  women  in  fair  raiment  of  flesh,  in  gra- 
cious veiling  of  hair;  but  where  is  the  blood,  the  source  of 
passion  and  of  calm,  the  cause  of  the  particular  effect  ?  Why, 
this  brown  Egyptian  of  yours,  my  good  Porbus,  is  a  colorless 
creature !  These  figures  that  you  set  before  us  are  painted 
bloodless  phantoms ;  and  you  call  that  painting,  you  call  that 
art! 

"Because  you  have  made  something  more  like  a  woman 
than  a  house,  you  think  that  you  have  set  your  fingers  on  the 
goal ;  you  are  quite  proud  that  you  need  not  to  write  currus 
venustus  or  pulcher  homo  beside  yonr  figures,  as  early  painters 
were  wont  to  do,  and  you  fancy  that  you  have  done  wonders. 


THE   UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE.  231 

Ah  !  my  good  friend,  there  is  still  something  more  to  learn,  and 
you  will  use  up  a  great  deal  of  chalk  and  cover  many  a  canvas 
before  you  will  learn  it.  Yes,  truly,  a  woman  carries  her  head  in 
just  such  a  way,  so  she  holds  her  garments  gathered  into  her 
hand  ;  her  eyes  grow  dreamy  and  soft  with  that  expression  of 
meek  sweetness,  and  even  so  the  quivering  shadow  of  the 
lashes  hovers  upon  her  cheeks.  It  is  all  there,  and  yet  it  is 
not  there.  What  is  lacking  ?  A  nothing,  but  that  nothing 
is  everything. 

"  There  you  have  the  semblance  of  life,  but  you  do  not  ex- 
press its  fulness  and  effluence,  that  indescribable  something, 
perhaps  the  soul  itself,  that  envelops  the  outlines  of  the  body 
like  a  haze;  that  flower  of  life,  in  short,  that  Titian  and 
Rafael  caught.  Your  utmost  achievement  hitherto  has  only 
brought  you  to  the  starting-point.  You  might  now  perhaps 
begin  to  do  excellent  work,  but  you  grow  weary  all  too  soon ; 
and  the  crowd  admires,  and  those  who  know  smile. 

"  Oh,  Mabuse  !  oh,  my  master  !  "  cried  the  strange  speaker, 
"  thou  art  a  thief!  Thou  hast  carried  away  the  secret  of  life 
with  thee!  " 

"Nevertheless,"  he  began  again,  "this  picture  of  yours  is 
worth  more  than  all  the  paintings  of  that  rascal  Rubens,  with 
his  mountains  of  Flemish  flesh  raddled  with  vermilion,  his 
torrents  of  red  hair,  his  riot  of  color.  You,  at  least,  have 
color  there,  and  feeling  and  drawing — the  three  essentials  in 
art." 

The  young  man  roused  himself  from  his  deep  musings. 

"Why,  my  good  man,  the  saint  is  sublime!"  he  cried. 
"There  is  a  subtlety  of  imagination  about  those  two  figures, 
the  Saint  Mary  and  the  Shipman,  that  cannot  be  found  among 
Italian  masters ;  I  do  not  know  a  single  one  of  them  capable 
of  imaging  the  Shipman's  hesitation." 

"  Did  that  little  malapert  come  with  you?  "  asked  Porbus 
of  the  older  man. 

"Alas  !  master,  pardon  my  boldness,"  cried  the  neophyte, 


232  THE    UNKNO  WN  MASTERPIECE. 

and  the  color  mounted  to  his  face.  "I  am  unknown — a 
dauber  by  instinct,  and  but  lately  come  to  this  city — the 
fountain-head  of  all  learning." 

"  Set  to  work,"  said  Porbus,  handing  him  a  bit  of  red  chalk 
and  a  sheet  of  paper. 

The  new-comer  quickly  sketched  the  Saint  Mary  line  for 
line. 

"Aha!"  exclaimed  the  old  man.  "Your  name?"  he 
added. 

The  young  man  quickly  wrote  "Nicolas  Poussin  "  below 
the  sketch. 

"  Not  bad  that  for  a  beginning,"  said  the  strange  speaker, 
who  had  discoursed  so  wildly.  "  I  see  that  we  can  talk  of  art 
in  your  presence.  I  do  not  blame  you  for  admiring  Porbus' 
saint.  In  the  eyes  of  the  world  she  is  a  masterpiece,  and  those 
alone  who  have  been  initiated  into  the  inmost  mysteries  of  art 
can  discover  her  shortcomings.  But  it  is  worth  while  to  give 
you  the  lesson,  for  you  are  able  to  understand  it,  so  I  will 
show  you  how  little  it  needs  to  complete  this  picture.  You 
must  be  all  eyes,  all  attention,  for  it  may  be  that  such  a  chance 
of  learning  will  never  come  in  your  way  again.  Porbus  !  your 
palette." 

Porbus  went  in  search  of  palette  and  brushes.  The  little 
old  man  turned  back  his  sleeves  with  impatient  energy,  seized 
the  palette,  covered  with  many  hues,  that  Porbus  handed  to 
him,  and  snatched  rather  than  took  a  handful  of  brushes 
of  various  sizes  from  the  hands  of  his  acquaintance.  His 
pointed  beard  suddenly  bristled — a  singular  movement 
that  expressed  the  object  of  a  lover's  fancy.  As  he  loaded 
his  brush,  he  muttered  between  his  teeth,  "  These  paints  are 
only  fit  to  fling  out  of  the  window,  together  with  the  fellow 
who  ground  them,  their  crudeness  and  falseness  are  disgusting  ! 
How  can  one  paint  with  this?" 

He  dipped  the  tip  of  the  brush  with  feverish  eagerness  in 
the  different  pigments,  making  the  circuit  of  the  palette  several 


THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE.  233 

times  more  quickly  than  the  organist  of  a  cathedral  sweeps 
the  octaves  on  the  keyboard  of  his  clavier  for  the  O  Filii  at 
Easter. 

Porbus  and  Poussin,  on  either  side  of  the  easel,  stood  stock- 
still,  watching  with  intense  interest. 

"Look,  young  man,"  he  began  again,  "see  how  three  or 
four  strokes  of  the  brush  and  a  thin  glaze  of  blue  let  in  the 
free  air  to  play  about  the  head  of  the  poor  saint,  who  must 
have  felt  stifled  and  oppressed  by  the  close  atmosphere  !  See 
how  the  drapery  begins  to  flutter ;  you  feel  that  it  is  lifted  by 
the  breeze  !  A  moment  ago  it  hung  as  heavily  and  stiffly  as 
if  it  were  held  out  by  pins.  Do  you  see  how  the  satin  sheen 
that  I  have  just  given  to  the  breast  rends  the  pliant,  silken 
softness  of  a  young  girl's  skin,  and  how  the  brown-red, 
blended  with  burnt  ochre,  brings  warmth  into  the  .cold  gray 
of  the  deep  shadow  where  the  blood  lay  congealed  instead  of 
coursing  through  the  veins?  Young  man,  young  man,  no 
master  could  teach  you  how  to  do  this  that  I  am  doing  before 
your  eyes.  Mabuse  alone  possessed  the  secret  of  giving  life 
to  his  figures  ;  Mabuse  had  but  one  pupil — that  was  I.  I  have 
had  none,  and  I  am  old.  You  have  sufficient  intelligence  to 
imagine  the  rest  from  the  glimpses  that  I  am  giving  you." 

While  the  old  man  was  speaking,  he  gave  a  touch  here  and 
there ;  sometimes  two  strokes  of  the  brush,  sometimes  a  single 
one;  but  every  stroke  told  so  well  that  the  whole  picture 
seemed  transfigured — the  painting  was  flooded  with  light. 
He  worked  with  such  passionate  fervor  that  beads  of  sweat 
gathered  upon  his  bare  forehead ;  he  worked  so  quickly,  in 
brief,  impatient  jerks,  that  it  seemed  to  young  Poussin  as  if 
some  familiar  spirit  inhabiting  the  body  of  this  strange  being 
took  a  grotesque  pleasure  in  making  use  of  the  man's  hands 
against  his  own  will.  The  unearthly  glitter  of  his  eyes,  the 
convulsive  movements  that  seemed  like  struggles,  gave  to  this 
fancy  a  semblance  of  truth  which  could  not  but  stir  a  young 
imagination.  The  old  man  continued,  saying  as  he  did  so — 


234  THE   UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE. 

"  Paf!  paf !  that  is  how  to  lay  it  on,  young  man  !  Little 
touches  !  come  and  bring  a  glow  into  those  icy  cold  tones  for 
me  !  Just  so  !  Pon  !  pon  !  pon  1  ' '  and  those  parts  of  the 
picture  that  he  had  pointed  out  as  cold  and  lifeless  flushed 
with  warmer  hues,  a  few  bold  strokes  of  color  brought  all 
the  tones  of  the  picture  into  the  required  harmony  with  the 
glowing  tints  of  the  Egyptian,  and  the  differences  in  tempera- 
ment vanished. 

"  Look  you,  youngster,  the  last  touches  make  the  picture. 
Porbus  has  given  it  a  hundred  strokes  for  every  one  of  mine. 
No  one  thanks  us  for  what  lies  beneath.  Bear  that  in  mind." 

At  last  the  restless  spirit  stopped,  and  turning  to  Porbus 
and  Poussin,  who  were  speechless  with  admiration,  he  spoke — 

"  This  is  not  as  good  as  my  Belle  Noiseuse ;  still  one  might 
put  one's  name  to  such  a  thing  as  this.  Yes,  I  would  put  my 
name  to  it,"  he  added,  rising  to  reach  for  a  mirror,  in  which 
he  looked  at  the  picture.  "And  now,"  he  said,  "will  you 
both  come  and  breakfast  with  me.  I  have  a  smoked  ham  and 
some  very  fair  wine  !  Eh  !  eh !  the  times  may  be  bad,  but 
we  can  still  have  some  talk  about  art !  We  can  talk  like 
equals.  Here  is  a  little  fellow  who  has  aptitude,"  he  added, 
laying  a  hand  on  Nicolas  Poussin's  shoulder. 

In  this  way  the  stranger  became  aware  of  the  threadbare  con- 
dition of  the  Norman's  doublet.  He  drew  a  leather  purse 
from  his  girdle,  felt  in  it,  found  two  gold  coins,  and  held 
them  out. 

"  I  will  buy  your  sketch,"  he  said. 

"  Take  it,"  said  Porbus,  as  he  saw  the  other  start  and  flush 
with  embarrassment,  for  Poussin  had  the  pride  of  poverty. 
"  Pray  take  it ;  he  has  a  couple  of  king's  ransoms  in  his 
pouch!" 

The  three  came  down  together  from  the  studio,  and,  talking 
of  art  by  the  way,  reached  a  picturesque  wooden  house  hard 
by  the  Pont  Saint-Michel.  Poussin  wondered  a  moment  at  its 
ornament,  at  the  knocker,  at  the  frames  of  the  casements,  at 


THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE.  235 

the  scroll-work  designs,  and  in  the  next  he  stood  in  a  vast 
low-ceiled  room.  A  table,  covered  with  tempting  dishes, 
stood  near  the  blazing  fire,  and  (luck  unhoped  for)  he  was  in 
the  company  of  two  great  artists  full  of  genial  good-humor. 

"  Do  not  look  too  long  at  that  canvas,  young  man,"  said 
Porbus,  when  he  saw  that  Poussin  was  standing,  struck  with 
wonder,  before  a  painting.  "You  would  fall  a  victim  to 
despair." 

It  was  the  Adam  painted  by  Mabuse  to  purchase  his  release 
from  the  prison  where  his  creditors  had  so  long  kept  him. 
And  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  figure  stood  out  so  boldly  and 
convincingly  that  Nicolas  Poussin  began  to  understand  the 
real  meaning  of  the  words  poured  out  by  the  old  artist,  who 
was  himself  looking  at  the  picture  with  apparent  satisfaction, 
but  without  enthusiasm.  "I  have  done  better  than  that!" 
he  seemed  to  be  saying  to  himself. 

"  There  is  life  in  it,"  he  said  aloud  ;  "  in  that  respect  my 
poor  master  here  surpassed  himself,  but  there  is  some  lack  of 
truth  in  the  background.  The  man  lives  indeed  ;  he  is  rising, 
and  will  come  towards  us;  but  the  atmosphere,  the  sky,  the 
air,  the  breath  of  the  breeze — you  look  and  feel  for  them,  but 
they  are  not  there.  And  then  the  man  himself  is,  after  all,  only 
a  man  !  Ah !  but  the  one  man  in  the  world  who  came  direct 
from  the  hands  of  God  must  have  had  a  something  divine 
about  him  that  is  wanting  here.  Mabuse  himself  would  grind 
his  teeth  and  say  so  when  he  was  not  drunk." 

Poussin  looked  from  the  speaker  to  Porbus,  and  from  Porbus 
to  the  speaker,  with  restless  curiosity.  He  went  up  to  the 
latter  to  ask  for  the  name  of  their  host ;  but  the  painter  laid 
a  finger  on  his  lips  with  an  air  of  mystery.  The  young  man's 
interest  was  excited  ;  he  kept  silence,  but  hoped  that  sooner  or 
later  some  word  might  be  let  fall  that  would  reveal  the  name  of 
his  entertainer.  It  was  evident  that  he  was  a  man  of  talent  and 
very  wealthy,  for  Porbus  listened  to  him  respectfully,  and  the 
vast  room  was  crowded  with  marvels  of  art. 


236  THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE. 

A  magnificent  portrait  of  a  woman,  hung  against  the  dark 
oak  panels  of  the  wall,  next  caught  Poussin's  attention. 

"What  a  glorious  Giorgione  !  "  he  cried. 

"  No,"  said  his  host,  "  it  is  an  early  daub  of  mine " 

"  Gramercy  !  I  am  in  the  abode  of  the  god  of  painting,  it 
seems  !  "  cried  Poussin  ingenuously. 

The  old  man  smiled  as  if  he  had  long  grown  familiar  with 
such  praise. 

"Master  Frenhofer !  "  said  Porbus,  "do  you  think  you 
could  send  me  a  little  of  your  capital  Rhine  wine?" 

"A  couple  of  pipes!"  answered  his  host;  "one  to  dis- 
charge a  debt,  for  the  pleasure  of  seeing  your  pretty  sinner, 
the  other  as  a  present  from  a  friend." 

"Ah  !  if  I  had  my  health,"  returned  Porbus,  "  and  if  you 
would  but  let  me  see  your  Belle  Noiseuse,  I  would  paint  some 
great  picture,  with  breadth  in  it  and  depth ;  the  figures  should 
be  life-size." 

"  Let  you  see  my  work  !  "  cried  the  painter  in  agitation. 
"  No,  no  !  it  is  not  perfect  yet ;  something  still  remains  for 
me  to  do.  Yesterday,  in  the  dusk,"  he  said,  "  I  thought  I 
had  reached  the  end.  Her  eyes  seemed  moist,  the  flesh 
quivered,  something  stirred  the  tresses  of  her  hair.  She 
breathed !  But  though  I  had  succeeded  in  reproducing 
nature's  roundness  and  relief  on  the  flat  surface  of  the  canvas, 
this  morning,  by  daylight,  I  found  out  my  mistake.  Ah  !  to 
achieve  that  glorious  result  I  have  studied  the  works  of  the 
great  masters  of  color,  stripping  off  coat  after  coat  of  color 
from  Titian's  canvas,  analyzing  the  pigments  of  the  king  of 
light.  Like  that  sovereign  painter,  I  began  the  face  in  a 
slight  tone  with  a  supple  and  fat  paste — for  shadow  is  but  an 
accident ;  bear  that  in  mind,  youngster ! — Then  I  began 
afresh,  and  by  half-tones  and  thin  glazes  of  color  less  and  less 
transparent,  I  gradually  deepened  the  tints  to  the  deepest 
black  of  the  strongest  shadows.  An  ordinary  painter  makes 
his  shadows  something  entirely  different  in  nature  from  the 


THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE.  237 

high-lights  ;  they  are  wood  or  brass,  or  what  you  will,  any- 
thing but  flesh  in  shadow.  You  feel  that  even  if  those  figures 
were  to  alter  their  position,  those  shadow  stains  would  never 
be  cleansed  away,  those  parts  of  the  picture  would  never  glow 
with  light. 

"  I  have  escaped  one  mistake,  into  which  the  most  famous 
painters  have  sometimes  fallen ;  in  my  canvas  the  whiteness 
shines  through  the  densest  and  most  persistent  shadow.  I  have 
not  marked  out  the  limits  of  my  figure  in  hard,  dry  outlines, 
and  brought  every  least  anatomical  detail  into  prominence 
(like  a  host  of  dunces,  who  fancy  that  they  can  draw  because 
they  can  trace  a  line  elaborately  smooth  and  clean),  for  the 
human  body  is  not  contained  within  the  limits  of  line.  In 
this  the  sculptor  can  approach  the  truth  more  nearly  than  we 
painters.  Nature's  way  is  a  complicated  succession  of  curve 
within  curve.  Strictly  speaking,  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
drawing.  Do  not  laugh,  young  man ;  strange  as  that  speech 
may  seem  to  you,  you  will  understand  the  truth  in  it  some 
day.  A  line  is  a  method  of  expressing  the  effect  of  light 
upon  an  object ;  but  there  are  no  lines  in  nature,  everything 
is  solid.  We  draw  by  modeling — that  is  to  say,  we  dis- 
engage an  object  from  its  setting ;  the  distribution  of  the 
light  alone  gives  to  a  body  the  appearance  by  which  we  know 
it.  So  I  have  not  defined  the  outlines  ;  I  have  suffused  them 
with  a  haze  of  half-tints,  warm  or  golden,  in  such  a  way  that 
you  cannot  lay  your  finger  on  the  exact  spot  where  back- 
ground and  contours  meet.  Seen  from  near,  the  picture 
looks  a  blur :  it  seems  to  lack  definition ;  but  step  back  two 
paces,  and  the  whole  thing  becomes  clear,  distinct,  and  solid ; 
the  body  stands  out,  the  rounded  form  comes  into  relief;  you 
feel  that  the  air  plays  round  it.  And  yet — I  am  not  satisfied  ; 
I  have  misgivings.  Perhaps  one  ought  not  to  draw  a  single 
line ;  perhaps  it  would  be  better  to  attack  the  face  from  the 
centre,  taking  the  highest  prominences  first,  proceeding  from 
them  through  the  whole  range  of  shadows  to  the  heaviest  of 


238  THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE. 

all.  Is  not  this  the  method  of  the  sun,  the  divine  painter  of 
the  world  ?  Oh,  nature  !  nature  !  who  has  surprised  thee, 
fugitive  ?  But,  after  all,  too  much  knowledge,  like  ignorance, 
brings  you  to  a  negation.  I  have  doubts  about  my  work." 

There  was  a  pause.  Then  the  old  man  spoke  again  :  "I 
have  been  at  work  upon  it  for  ten  years,  young  man ;  but 
what  are  ten  short  years  in  a  struggle  with  nature  ?  Do  we 
know  how  long  Pygmalion  wrought  at  the  one  statue  that 
came  to  life?" 

The  old  man  fell  into  deep  musings,  and  gazed  before  him 
with  wide  unseeing  eyes,  while  he  played  unheedingly  with 
his  knife. 

"Look,  he  is  in  converse  with  his  dcemon\  "  murmured 
Porbus. 

At  the  word,  Nicolas  Poussin  felt  himself  carried  away  by 
an  unaccountable  accession  of  artist's  curiosity.  For  him  the 
old  man,  at  once  intent  and  inert,  the  seer  with  the  unseeing 
eyes,  became  something  more  than  a  man — a  fantastic  spirit 
living  in  a  mysterious  world,  and  countless  vague  thoughts 
awoke  within  his  soul.  The  effect  of  this  species  of  fascina- 
tion upon  his  mind  can  no  more  be  described  in  words  than 
the  passionate  longing  awakened  in  an  exile's  heart  by  the 
song  that  recalls  his  home.  He  thought  of  the  scorn  that  the 
old  man  affected  to  display  for  the  noblest  efforts  of  art,  of 
his  wealth,  his  manners,  of  the  deference  paid  to  him  by  Por- 
bus. The  mysterious  picture,  the  work  of  patience  on  which 
he  had  wrought  so  long  in  secret,  was  doubtless  a  work  of 
genius,  for  the  head  of  the  Virgin  which  young  Poussin  had 
admired  so  frankly  was  beautiful  even  beside  Mabuse's  Adam 
— there  was  no  mistaking  the  imperial  manner  of  one  of  the 
princes  of  art.  Everything  combined  to  set  the  old  man 
beyond  the  limits  of  human  nature. 

Out  of  the  wealth  of  fancies  in  Nicolas  Poussin's  brain  an 
idea  grew,  and  gathered  shape  and  clearness.  He  saw  in  this 
supernatural  being  a  complete  type  of  the  artist  nature,  a  na- 


THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE.  239 

ture  mocking  and  kindly,  barren  and  prolific,  an  erratic  spirit 
intrusted  with  great  and  manifold  powers,  which  she  too  often 
abuses,  leading  sober  reason,  the  Philistine,  and  sometimes 
even  the  amateur  forth  into  a  stony  wilderness  where  they  see 
nothing;  but  the  white-winged  maiden  herself,  wild  as  her 
fancies  may  be,  finds  epics  there  and  castles  and  works  of 
art.  For  Poussin,  the  enthusiast,  the  old  man,  was  suddenly 
transfigured,  and  became  art  incarnate,  art  with  its  mysteries, 
its  vehement  passion  and  its  dreams.  For  Poussin  the  old 
man  now  represented  a  grand  ideal. 

"Yes,  my  dear  Porbus,"  Frenhofer  continued,  "hitherto 
I  have  never  found  a  flawless  model,  a  body  with  outlines  of 
perfect  beauty,  the  carnations — Ah!  where  does  she  live?" 
he  cried,  breaking  in  upon  himself,  "  the  undiscoverable 
Venus  of  the  olden  time,  for  whom  we  have  sought  so  often, 
only  to  find  the  scattered  gleams  of  her  beauty  here  and 
there  ?  Oh !  to  behold  once  and  for  one  moment,  nature 
grown  perfect  and  divine,  the  ideal  at  last,  I  would  give  all 
that  I  possess.  Nay,  beauty  divine,  I  would  go  to  seek  thee 
in  the  dim  land  of  the  dead ;  like  Orpheus,  I  would  go  down 
into  the  hades  of  art  to  bring  back  the  life  of  art  from  among 
the  shadows  of  death." 

"We  can  go  now,"  said  Porbus  to  Poussin.  "  He  neither 
hears  nor  sees  us  any  longer." 

"Let  us  go  to  his  studio,"  said  young  Poussin,  wondering 
greatly. 

"  Oh  !  the  old  fox  takes  care  that  no  one  shall  enter  it. 
His  treasures  are  so  carefully  guarded  that  it  is  impossible 
for  us  to  come  at  them.  I  have  not  waited  for  your  sug- 
gestion and  your  fancy  to  attempt  to  lay  hands  on  this  mys- 
tery by  force." 

"  So  there  is  a  mystery?  " 

"Yes,"  answered  Porbus.  "Old  Frenhofer  is  the  only 
pupil  Mabuse  would  take.  Frenhofer  became  the  painter's 
friend,  deliverer,  and  father ;  he  sacrificed  the  greater  part 


240  THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE. 

of  his  fortune  to  enable  Mabuse  to  indulge  in  riotous  extrav- 
agance, and  in  return  Mabuse  bequeathed  to  him  the  secret 
of  relief,  the  power  of  giving  to  his  figures  the  wonderful  life, 
the  flower  of  nature,  the  eternal  despair  of  art,  the  secret 
which  Mabuse  knew  so  well  that  one  day  when  he  had  sold 
the  flowered  brocade  suit  in  which  he  should  have  appeared 
at  the  Entry  of  Charles  V.,  he  accompanied  his  master  in  a 
suit  of  paper  painted  to  resemble  the  brocade.  The  peculiar 
richness  and  splendor  of  the  stuff  struck  the  Emperor;  he 
complimented  the  old  drunkard's  patron  on  the  artist's  ap- 
pearance, and  so  the  trick  was  brought  to  light.  Frenhofer 
is  a  passionate  enthusiast,  who  sees  above  and  beyond  other 
painters.  He  has  meditated  profoundly  on  color,  and  the 
absolute  truth  of  line;  but  by  the  way  of  much  research  he 
has  come  to  doubt  the  very  existence  of  the  objects  of  his 
search.  He  says,  in  moments  of  despondency,  that  there  is 
no  such  thing  as  drawing,  and  that  by  means  of  lines  we  can 
only  reproduce  geometrical  figures ;  but  that  is  overshooting 
the  mark ;  for  by  outline  and  shadow  you  can  reproduce  form 
without  any  color  at  all,  which  shows  that  our  art,  like  nature, 
is  composed  of  an  infinite  number  of  elements.  Drawing 
gives  you  the  skeleton,  the  anatomical  framework,  and  color 
puts  the  life  into  it ;  but  life  without  the  skeleton  is  even 
more  incomplete  than  a  skeleton  without  life.  But  there  is 
something  else  truer  still,  and  it  is  this — for  painters,  practice 
and  observation  are  everything ;  and  when  theories  and  polit- 
ical ideas  begin  to  quarrel  with  the  brushes,  the  end  is  doubt, 
as  has  happened  with  our  good  friend,  who  is  half-crack- 
brained  enthusiast,  half-painter.  A  sublime  painter !  but, 
unluckily  for  him,  he  was  born  to  riches,  and  so  he  has  leisure 
to  follow  his  fancies.  Do  not  you  follow  his  example ! 
Work !  painters  have  no  business  to  think,  except  with  brush 
in  hand." 

"  We  will  find  a  way  into  his  studio  !"  cried  Poussin  con- 
fidently.    He  had  ceased  to  heed  Porbus'  remarks.    The  other 


TJfE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE.  241 

smiled  at  the  young  painter's  enthusiasm,  asked  him  to  come 
to  see  him  again,  and  they  parted. 

Nicolas  Poussin  went  slowly  back  to  the  Rue  de  la  Harpe, 
and  passed  the  modest  hostelry  where  he  was  lodging  without 
noticing  it.  A  feeling  of  uneasiness  prompted  him  to  hurry 
up  the  crazy  staircase  till  he  reached  a  room  at  the  top,  a 
quaint,  airy  recess  under  the  steep,  high-pitched  roof  common 
among  houses  in  old  Paris.  In  the  one  dingy  window  of  the 
place  sat  a  young  girl,  who  sprang  up  at  once  when  she  heard 
some  one  at  the  door ;  it  was  the  prompting  of  love ;  she  had 
recognized  the  painter's  touch  on  the  latch. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you?  "  she  asked. 

"The  matter  is is Oh  !  I  have  felt  that  I  am  a 

painter  !  Until  to-day  I  have  had  doubts,  but  now  I  believe 
in  myself !  There  is  the  making  of  a  great  man  in  me  !  Never 
mind,  Gillette,  we  shall  be  rich  and  happy !  There  is  gold  at 
the  tips  of  those  brushes " 

He  broke  off  suddenly.  The  joy  faded  from  his  powerful 
and  earnest  face  as  he  compared  his  vast  hopes  with  his  slender 
resources.  The  walls  were  covered  with  sketches  in  chalk  on 
sheets  of  common  paper.  There  were  but  four  canvases  in  the 
room.  Colors  were  very  costly,  and  the  young  painter's  palette 
was  almost  bare.  Yet  in  the  midst  of  his  poverty  he  possessed 
and  was  conscious  of  the  possession  of  inexhaustible  treasures 
of  the  heart,  of  a  devouring  genius  equal  to  all  the  tasks  that 
lay  before  him. 

He  had  been  brought  to  Paris  by  a  nobleman  among  his 
friends,  or  perchance  by  the  consciousness  of  his  powers ;  and 
in  Paris  he  had  found  a  mistress,  one  of  those  noble  and 
generous  souls  who  choose  to  suffer  by  a  great  man's  side,  who 
share  his  struggles  and  strive  to  understand  his  fancies,  accept- 
ing their  lot  of  poverty  and  love  as  bravely  and  dauntlessly 
as  other  womeh  will  set  themselves  to  bear  the  burden  of 
riches  and  make  a  parade  of  their  insensibility.  The  smile 
that  stole  over  Gillette's  lips  filled  the  garret  with  golden 
16 


242  THE   UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE. 

light,  and  rivaled  the  brightness  of  the  sun  in  heaven.  The 
sun,  moreover,  does  not  always  shine  in  heaven,  whereas 
Gillette  was  always  in  the  garret,  absorbed  in  her  passion, 
occupied  by  Poussin's  happiness  and  sorrow,  consoling  the 
genius  which  found  an  outlet  in  love  before  art  engrossed  it. 

"Listen,  Gillette.     Come  here." 

The  girl  obeyed  joyously,  and  sprang  upon  the  painter's 
knee.  Hers  was  perfect  grace  and  beauty,  and  the  loveliness 
of  spring ;  she  was  adorned  with  all  luxuriant  fairness  of  out- 
ward form,  lighted  up  by  the  glow  of  a  fair  soul  within. 

"  Oh  !  God,"  he  cried ;  "  I  shall  never  dare  to  tell  her " 

"  A  secret ? "  she  cried ;  "I  must  know  it !  " 

Poussin  was  absorbed  in  his  dreams. 

"Do  tell  it  tome!" 

"  Gillette,  poor  beloved  heart !  " 

"  Oh  !  do  you  want  something  of  me?  " 

"Yes." 

"If  you  wish  me  to  sit  once  more  for  you  as  I  did  the 
other  day,"  she  continued  with  playful  petulance,  "I  will 
never  consent  to  do  such  a  thing  again,  for  your  eyes  say 
nothing  all  the  while.  You  do  not  think  of  me  at  all,  and 
yet  you  look  at  me " 

"  Would  you  rather  have  me  draw  another  woman  ?  " 

"Perhaps — if  she  were  very  ugly,"  she  said. 

"Well,"  said  Poussin  gravely,  "and  if,  for  the  sake  of  my 
fame  to  come,  if  to  make  me  a  great  painter,  you  must  sit  to 
some  one  else?" 

"  You  may  try  me,"  she  said ;  "  you  know  quite  well  that 
I  would  not." 

Poussin's  head  sank  on  her  breast ;  he  seemed  to  be  over- 
powered by  some  intolerable  joy  or  sorrow. 

"  Listen,"  she  cried,  plucking  at  the  sleeve  of  Poussin's 
threadbare  doublet.  "I  told  you,  Nick,  that  I  would  lay 
down  my  life  for  you  ;  but  I  never  promised  you  that  I  in  my 
lifetime  would  lay  down  my  love." 


THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE.  243 

"  Your  love?  "  cried  the  young  artist. 

"  If  I  showed  myself  thus  to  another,  you  would  love  me 
no  longer,  and  I  should  feel  myself  unworthy  of  you.  Obedi- 
ence to  your  fancies  was  a  natural  and  simple  thing,  was  it 
not !  Even  against  my  own  will,  I  am  glad  and  even  proud 
to  do  thy  dear  will.  But  for  another,  out  upon  it !  " 

"Forgive  me,  my  Gillette,"  said  the  painter,  falling  upon 
his  knees;  "I  would  rather  be  beloved  than  famous.  You 
are  fairer  than  success  and  honors.  There  ;  fling  the  pencils 
away,  and  burn  these  sketches  !  I  have  made  a  mistake.  I 
was  meant  to  love  and  not  to  paint.  Perish  art  and  all  its 
secrets !  ' ' 

Gillette  looked  admiringly  at  him,  in  an  ecstasy  of  happi- 
ness !  She  was  triumphant ;  she  felt  instinctively  that  art 
was  laid  aside  for  her  sake,  and  flung  like  a  grain  of  incense 
at  her  feet. 

"Yet  he  is  only  an  old  man,"  Poussin  continued;  "for 
him  you  would  be  a  woman,  and  nothing  more.  You — so 
perfect!  " 

"I  must  love  you  indeed  !  "  she  cried,  ready  to  sacrifice 
even  love's  scruples  to  the  lover  who  had  given  up  so  much 
for  her  sake  ;  "  but  I  should  bring  about  my  own  ruin.  Ah  ! 

to  ruin  myself,  to  lose  everything  for  you ! It  is  a  very 

glorious  thought !  Ah  !  but  you  will  forget  me.  Oh  !  what 
evil  thought  is  this  that  has  come  to  you?  How  can  you 
ask  such  a  thing  of  me  ?  " 

"  I  love  you,  and  yet  I  thought  of  it,"  he  said,  with  some- 
thing like  remorse.  "  Am  I  so  base  a  wretch?  " 

"  Let  us  consult  Pere  Hardouin,"  she  said. 

"  No,  no  !  let  it  be  a  secret  between  us.  " 

"Very  well;  I  will  do  it.  But  you  must  not  be  there," 
she  said.  "  Stay  at  the  door  with  your  dagger  in  your  hand  j 
and  if  I  call,  rush  in  and  kill  the  painter." 

Poussin  forgot  everything  but  art.  He  held  Gillette  tightly 
in  his  arms. 


244  THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE. 

"  He  loves  me  no  longer  !  "  thought  Gillette  when  she  was 
alone.  She  repented  of  her  resolution  already. 

But  to  these  misgivings  there  soon  succeeded  a  sharper 
pain,  and  she  strove  to  banish  a  hideous  thought  that  arose  in 
her  own  heart.  It  seemed  to  her  that  her  own  love  had 
grown  less  already,  with  a  vague  suspicion  that  the  painter 
had  fallen  somewhat  in  her  eyes. 


II.  CATHERINE  LESCAULT. 

Three  months  after  Poussin  and  Porbus  met,  the  latter 
went  to  see  Master  Frenhofer.  The  old  man  had  fallen  a 
victim  to  one  of  those  profound  and  spontaneous  fits  of  dis- 
couragement that  are  caused,  according  to  medical  logicians, 
by  indigestion,  flatulence,  fever,  or  enlargement  of  the  spleen  ; 
or,  if  you  take  the  opinion  of  the  Spiritualists,  by  the  imper- 
fections of  our  moral  nature.  The  good  man  had  simply 
overworked  himself  in  putting  the  finishing  touches  to  his 
mysterious  picture.  He  was  lounging  in  a  huge  carved  oak 
chair,  covered  with  black  leather,  and  did  not  change  his 
listless  attitude,  but  glanced  at  Porbus  like  a  man  who  has 
settled  down  into  low  spirits. 

"Well,  master,"  said  Porbus,  "was  the  ultramarine  bad 
that  you  sent  for  to  Bruges?  Is  the  new  white  difficult  to 
grind?  Is  the  oil  poor,  or  are  the  brushes  recalcitrant?  " 

"Alas!"  cried  the  old  man,  "for  a  moment  I  thought 
that  my  work  was  finished ;  but  I  am  sure  that  I  am  mistaken 
in  certain  details,  and  I  cannot  rest  until  I  have  cleared  my 
doubts.  I  am  thinking  of  traveling.  I  am  going  to  Turkey, 
to  Greece,  to  Asia,  in  quest  of  a  model,  so  as  to  compare  my 
picture  with  the  different  living  forms  of  nature.  Perhaps," 
and  a  smile  of  contentment  stole  over  his  face,  "perhaps  I 


THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE.  245 

have  nature  herself  up  there.  At  times  I  am  half-afraid  that 
a  breath  may  waken  her,  and  that  she  will  escape  me." 

He  rose  to  his  feet  as  if  to  set  out  at  once. 

"Aha!"  said  Porbus,  "I  have  come  just  in  time  to  save 
you  the  trouble  and  expense  of  a  journey." 

"  What?  "  asked  Frenhofer  in  amazement. 

"Young  Poussin  is  loved  by  a  woman  of  incomparable  and 
flawless  beauty.  But,  dear  master,  if  he  consents  to  lend  her 
to  you,  at  the  least  you  ought  to  let  us  see  your  work." 

The  old  man  stood  motionless  and  completely  dazed. 

"What!"  he  cried  piteously  at  last,  "show  you  my  crea- 
tion, my  bride?  Rend  the  veil  that  has  kept  my  happiness 
sacred?  It  would  be  an  infamous  profanation.  For  ten  years 
I  have  lived  with  her ;  she  is  mine,  mine  alone ;  she  loves  me. 
Has  she  not  smiled  at  me,  at  each  stroke  of  the  brush  upon 
the  canvas  ?  She  has  a  soul — the  soul  that  I  have  given  her. 
She  would  blush  if  any  eyes  but  mine  should  rest  on  her.  To 
exhibit  her !  Where  is  the  husband,  the  lover  so  vile  as  to 
bring  the  woman  he  loves  to  dishonor  ?  When  you  paint  a 
picture  for  the  court,  you  do  not  put  your  whole  soul  into  it ; 
to  courtiers  you  sell  lay  figures  duly  colored.  My  painting  is 
no  painting,  it  is  a  sentiment,  a  passion.  She  was  born  in  my 
studio,  there  she  must  dwell  in  maiden  solitude,  and  only 
when  clad  can  she  issue  thence.  Poetry  and  women  only  lay 
the  last  veil  aside  for  their  lovers.  Have  we  Rafael's  model, 
Ariosto's  Angelica,  Dante's  Beatrice  ?  Nay,  only  their  form 
and  semblance.  But  this  picture,  locked  away  above  in  my 
studio,  is  an  exception  in  our  art.  It  is  not  a  canvas,  it  is  a 
woman — a  woman  with  whom  I  talk.  I  share  her  thoughts,  her 
tears,  her  laughter.  Would  you  have  me  fling  aside  these  ten 
years  of  happiness  like  a  cloak  ?  Would  you  have  me  cease  at 
once  to  be  father,  lover,  and  creator  ?  She  is  not  a  creature, 
but  a  creation. 

"  Bring  your  young  painter  here.  I  will  give  him  my 
treasures  ;  I  will  give  him  pictures  by  Correggio  and  Michel 


246  THE   UNKNO  WN  MASTERPIECE. 

Angelo  and  Titian ;  I  will  kiss  his  footprints  in  the  dust ;  but 
— make  him  my  rival !  Shame  on  me.  Ah  !  ah !  I  am  a 
lover  first,  and  then  a  painter.  Yes,  with  my  latest  sigh  I 
could  find  strength  to  burn  my  Belle  Noiseuse ;  but — compel 
her  to  endure  the  gaze  of  a  stranger,  a  young  man  and  a 
painter  !  Ah  !  no,  no  !  I  would  kill  him  on  the  morrow 
who  should  sully  her  with  a  glance  !  Nay,  you,  my  friend,  I 
would  kill  you  with  my  own  hands  in  a  moment  if  you  did 
not  kneel  in  reverence  before  her !  Now,  will  you  have  me 
submit  my  idol  to  the  careless  eyes  and  senseless  criticisms  of 
fools  ?  Ah !  love  is  a  mystery ;  it  can  only  live  hidden  in 
the  depths  of  the  heart.  You  say,  even  to  your  friend,  '  Be- 
hold her  whom  I  love,'  and  there  is  an  end  of  love." 

The  old  man  seemed  to  have  grown  young  again ;  there 
were  light  and  life  in  his  eyes  and  a  faint  flush  of  red  in  his 
pale  face.  His  hands  shook.  Porbus  was  so  amazed  by  the 
passionate  vehemence  of  Frenhofer's  words  that  he  knew  not 
what  to  reply  to  this  utterance  of  an  emotion  as  strange  as  it 
was  profound.  Was  Frenhofer  sane  or  mad?  Had  he  fallen 
a  victim  to  some  freak  of  the  artist's  fancy?  or  were  these 
ideas  of  his  produced  by  that  strange  lightheadedness  which 
comes  over  us  during  the  long  travail  of  a  work  of  art. 
Would  it  be  possible  to  come  to  terms  with  this  singular 
passion  ? 

Harassed  by  all  these  doubts,  Porbus  spoke — "  Is  it  not 
woman  for  woman  ?  "  he  said.  "  Does  not  Poussin  submit  his 
mistress  to  your  gaze  ?  " 

"  What  is  she?  "  retorted  the  other.  "A  mistress  who  will 
be  false  to  him  sooner  or  later.  Mine  will  be  faithful  to  me 
forever. ' ' 

"Well,  well,"  said  Porbus,  "let  us  say  no  more  about  it. 
But  you  may  die  before  you  will  find  such  flawless  beauty  as 
hers,  even  in  Asia,  and  then  your  picture  will  be  left  unfin- 
ished." 

"  Oh !  it  is  finished,"  said  Frenhofer.     "  Standing  before  it 


THE   UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE.  247 

you  would  think  that  it  was  a  living  woman  lying  on  the  vel- 
vet couch  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  curtains.  Perfumes  are 
burning  on  a  golden  tripod  by  her  side.  You  would  be 
tempted  to  lay  your  hand  upon  the  tassel  of  the  cord  that 
holds  back  the  curtains ;  it  would  seem  to  you  that  you  saw 
her  breast  rise  and  fall  as  she  breathed ;  that  you  beheld  the 
living  Catherine  Lescault,  the  beautiful  courtesan  whom  men 
called  La  Belle  Noiseuse.  And  yet — if  I  could  but  be  sure 


"  Then  go  to  Asia,"  returned  Porbus,  noticing  a  certain  in- 
decision in  Frenhofer's  face.  And  with  that  Porbus  made  a 
few  steps  towards  the  door. 

By  that  time  Gillette  and  Nicolas  Poussin  had  reached  Fren- 
hofer's house.  The  girl  drew  her  arm  away  from  her  lover's 
as  she  stood  on  the  threshold,  and  shrank  back  as  if  some 
presentiment  flashed  through  her  mind. 

"Oh!  what  have  I  come  to  do  here?"  she  asked  of  her 
lover  in  low  vibrating  tones,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  his. 

"Gillette,  I  have  left  you  to  decide;  I  am  ready  to  obey 
you  in  everything.  You  are  my  conscience  and  my  glory. 
Go  home  again ;  I  shall  be  happier,  perhaps,  if  you  do  not 


"Am  I  my  own  when  you  speak  to  me  like  that?  No,  no  j 
I  am  like  a  child — Come,"  she  added,  seemingly  with  a  vio- 
lent effort ;  "  if  our  love  dies,  if  I  plant  a  long  regret  in  my 
heart,  your  fame  will  be  the  reward  of  my  obedience  to  your 
wishes,  will  it  not  ?  Let  us  go  in.  I  shall  still  live  on  as  a 
memory  on  your  palette ;  that  shall  be  life  for  me  afterwards." 

The  door  opened,  and  the  two  lovers  encountered  Porbus, 
who  was  surprised  by  the  beauty  of  Gillette,  whose  eyes  were 
full  of  tears.  He  hurried  her,  trembling  from  head  to  foot, 
into  the  presence  of  the  old  painter. 

"  Here  !  "  he  cried,  "  is  she  not  worth  all  the  masterpieces 
in  the  world  !  " 

Frenhofer  trembkd.     There  stood  Gillette  in  the  artless  and 


248  THE   UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE. 

childlike  attitude  of  some  timid  and  innocent  Giorgione,  car- 
ried off  by  brigands,  and  confronted  with  a  slave  merchant. 
A  shame-fast  red  flushed  her  face,  her  eyes  drooped,  her  hands 
hung  by  her  side,  her  strength  seemed  to  have  failed  her,  her 
tears  protested  against  this  outrage.  Poussin  cursed  himself 
in  despair  that  he  should  have  brought  his  fair  treasure  from 
its  hiding-place.  The  lover  overcame  the  artist,  and  countless 
doubts  assailed  Poussin's  heart  when  he  saw  youth  dawn  in  the 
old  man's  eyes,  as,  like  a  painter,  he  discerned  every  line  of 
the  form  hidden  beneath  the  young  girl's  vesture.  Then  the 
lover's  savage  jealousy  awoke. 

"Gillette  !  "  he  cried,  "let  us  go." 

The  girl  turned  joyously  at  the  cry  and  the  tone  in  which 
it  was  uttered,  raised  her  eyes  to  his,  looked  at  him,  and  fled 
to  his  arms. 

"Ah!  then  you  love  me,"  she  cried;  "  you  love  me  !  " 
and  she  burst  into  tears. 

She  had  spirit  enough  to  suffer  in  silence,  but  she  had  no 
strength  to  hide  her  joy. 

"  Oh  !  leave  her  with  me  for  one  moment,"  said  the  old 

painter,  "and  you  shall  compare  her  with  my  Catherine 

yes — I  consent." 

Frenhofer's  words  likewise  came  from  him  like  a  lover's 
cry.  His  vanity  seemed  to  be  engaged  for  his  semblance  of 
womanhood  ;  he  anticipated  the  triumph  of  the  beauty  of  his 
own  creation  over  the  beauty  of  the  living  girl. 

"  Do  not  give  him  time  to  change  his  mind  !  "  cried  Por- 
bus,  striking  Poussin  on  the  shoulder.  "  The  flower  of  love 
soon  fades,  but  the  flower  of  art  is  immortal." 

"Then  am  I  only  a  woman  now  for  him?  "  said  Gillette. 
She  was  watching  Poussin  and  Porbus  closely. 

She  raised  her  head  proudly ;  she  glanced  at  Frenhofer, 
and  her  eyes  flashed ;  then  as  she  saw  how  her  lover  had 
fallen  again  to  gazing  at  the  portrait  which  he  had  taken  at 
first  for  a  Giorgione— 


THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE.  249 

"  Ah  !  "  she  cried  ;  "  let  us  go  up  to  the  studio.  He  never 
gave  me  such  a  look." 

The  sound  of  her  voice  recalled  Poussin  from  his  dreams. 

"Old  man,"  he  said,  "do  you  see  this  blade?  I  will 
plunge  it  into  your  heart  at  the  first  cry  from  this  young  girl ; 
I  will  set  fire  to  your  house,  and  no  one  shall  leave  it  alive. 
Do  you  understand  ?  " 

Nicolas  Poussin  scowled,  every  word  was  a  menace.  Gil- 
lette took  comfort  from  the  young  painter's  bearing,  and  yet 
more  from  that  gesture,  and  almost  forgave  him  for  sacrificing 
her  to  his  art  and  his  glorious  future. 

Porbus  and  Poussin  stood  at  the  door  of  the  studio  and 
looked  at  each  other  in  silence.  At  first  the  painter  of  the 
Saint  Mary  of  Egypt  hazarded  some  exclamations:  "Ah! 
she  has  taken  off  her  clothes ;  he  told  her  to  come  into  the 
light — he  is  comparing  the  two  !  "  but  the  sight  of  the  deep 
distress  in  Poussin's  face  suddenly  silenced  him ;  and  though 
old  painters  no  longer  feel  these  scruples,  so  petty  in  the 
presence  of  art,  he  admired  them  because  they  were  so  natural 
and  gracious  in  the  lover.  The  young  man  kept  his  hand  on 
the  hilt  of  his  dagger,  and  his  ear  was  almost  glued  to  the 
door.  The  two  men  standing  in  the  shadow  might  have  been 
conspirators  waiting  for  the  hour  when  they  might  strike  down 
a  tyrant. 

"  Come  in,  come  in,"  cried  the  old  man.  He  was  radiant 
with  delight.  "  My  work  is  perfect.  I  can  show  her  now 
with  pride.  Never  shall  painter,  brushes,  colors,  light  and 
canvas  produce  a  rival  for  Catherine  Lescaull,  the  beautiful 
courtesan  !  " 

Porbus  and  Poussin,  burning  with  eager  curiosity,  hurried 
into  a  vast  studio.  Everything  was  in  disorder  and  covered 
with  dust,  but  they  saw  a  few  pictures  here  and  there  upon 
the  wall.  They  stopped  first  of  all  in  admiration  before  the 
life-sized  figure  of  a  woman  partially  draped. 

"  Oh  !  never  mind  that,"  said  Frenhofer  ;  that  is  a  rough 


250  THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE. 

daub  that  I  made,  a  study,  a  pose,  it  is  nothing.  These  are 
ray  failures,"  he  went  on,  indicating  the  enchanting  com- 
positions upon  the  walls  of  the  studio. 

This  scorn  for  such  works  of  art  struck  Porbus  and  Poussin 
dumb  with  amazement.  They  looked  round  for  the  picture 
of  which  he  had  spoken,  and  could  not  discover  it. 

"  Look  here  !  "  said  the  old  man.  His  hair  was  disordered, 
his  face  aglow  with  a  more  than  human  exaltation,  his  eyes 
glittered,  he  breathed  hard  like  a  young  lover  frenzied  by 
love. 

"  Aha  !  "  he  cried,  "  you  did  not  expect  to  see  such  perfec- 
tion !  You  are  looking  for  a  picture,  and  you  see  a  woman 
before  you.  There  is  such  depth  in  that  canvas,  the  atmos- 
phere is  so  true  that  you  cannot  distinguish  it  from  the  air 
that  surrounds  us.  Where  is  art?  Art  has  vanished,  it  is 
invisible  !  It  is  the  form  of  a  living  girl  that  you  see  before 
you.  Have  I  not  caught  the  very  hues  of  life,  the  spirit  of 
the  living  line  that  defines  the  figure  ?  Is  there  not  the  effect 
produced  there  like  that  which  all  natural  objects  present  in 
the  atmosphere  about  them,  or  fishes  in  the  water  ?  Do  you 
see  how  the  figure  stands  out  against  the  background  ?  Does 
it  not  seem  to  you  that  you  could  pass  your  hand  along  the 
back  ?  But  then  for  seven  years  I  studied  and  watched  how 
the  daylight  blends  with  the  objects  on  which  it  falls.  And 
the  hair,  the  light  pours  over  it  like  a  flood,  does  it  not  ? 
Ah  !  she  breathed,  I  am  sure  that  she  breathed  !  Her  breast 
— ah,  see !  Who  would  not  fall  on  his  knees  before  her  ? 
Her  pulses  throb.  She  will  rise  to  her  feet.  Wait!"  con- 
tinued the  old  man,  in  the  height  of  his  enthusiasm. 

"  Do  you  see  anything?"  Poussin  asked  of  Porbus. 

"No;  do  you?" 

"  I  see  nothing." 

The  two  painters  left  the  old  man  to  his  ecstasy,  and  tried 
to  ascertain  whether  the  light  that  fell  full  upon  the  canvas 
had  in  some  way  neutralized  all  the  effect  for  them.  They 


THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE.  251 

moved  to  the  right  and  left  of  the  picture ;  then  they  came  in 
front,  bending  down  and  standing  upright  by  turns. 

"Yes,  yes,  it  is  really  canvas,"  said  Frenhofer,  who  mis- 
took the  nature  of  this  minute  investigation. 

"  Look  !  the  canvas  is  on  a  stretcher,  here  is  the  easel ; 
indeed,  here  are  my  colors,  my  brushes,"  and  he  took  up  a 
brush  and  held  it  out  to  them,  all  unsuspicious  of  their 
thought. 

"The  old  lansquenet  is  laughing  at  us,"  said  Poussin,  coming 
once  more  towards  the  supposed  picture.  "  I  can  see  nothing 
there  but  confused  masses  of  color  and  a  multitude  of  fantas- 
tical lines  that  go  to  make  a  dead  wall  of  paint." 

"  We  are  mistaken,  look!  "  said  Porbus. 

In  a  corner  of  the  canvas  as  they  came  nearer  they  dis- 
tinguished a  bare  foot  emerging  from  the  chaos  of  color,  half- 
tints  and  vague  shadows  that  made  up  a  dim  formless 
fog.  Its  living  delicate  beauty  held  them  spellbound.  This 
fragment  that  had  escaped  an  incomprehensible,  slow,  and 
gradual  destruction  seemed  to  them  like  the  Parian  marble 
torso  of  some  Venus  emerging  from  the  ashes  of  a  ruined 
town. 

"There  is  a  woman  beneath,"  exclaimed  Porbus,  calling 
Poussin's  attention  to  the  coats  of  paint  with  which  the  old 
artist  had  overlaid  and  concealed  his  work  in  the  quest  of 
perfection. 

Both  artists  turned  involuntarily  to  Frenhofer.  They  began 
to  have  some  understanding,  vague  though  it  was,  of  the 
ecstasy  in  which  he  lived. 

"  He  believes  it  in  all  good  faith,"  said  Porbus. 

"Yes,  my  friend,"  said  the  old  man,  rousing  himself  from 
his  dreams,  "  it  needs  faith,  faith  in  art,  and  you  must  live  for 
long  with  your  work  to  produce  such  a  creation.  What  toil 
some  of  those  shadows  have  cost  me.  Look  !  there  is  a  faint 
shadow  there  upon  the  cheek  beneath  the  eyes — if  you  saw  that 
on  a  human  face,  it  would  seem  to  you  that  you  could  never 


252  THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE, 

render  it  with  paint.  Do  you  think  that  that  effect  has  not 
cost  unheard-of  toil  ? 

"  But  not  only  so,  dear  Porbus.  Look  closely  at  my  work, 
and  you  will  understand  more  clearly  what  I  was  saying  as  to 
methods  of  modeling  and  outline.  Look  at  the  high-lights  on 
the  bosom,  and  see  how  by  touch  on  touch,  thickly  laid  on,  I 
have  raised  the  surface  so  that  it  catches  the  light  itself  and 
blends  it  with  the  lustrous  whiteness  of  the  high-lights,  and 
how  by  an  opposite  process,  by  flattening  the  surface  of  the 
paint,  and  leaving  no  trace  of  the  passage  of  the  brush,  I 
have  succeeded  in  softening  the  contours  of  my  figure  and  en- 
veloping them  in  half-tints  until  the  very  idea  of  drawing,  of 
the  means  by  which  the  effect  is  produced,  fades  away,  and 
the  picture  has  the  roundness  and  relief  of  nature.  Come 
closer.  You  will  see  the  manner  of  working  better;  at  a  little 
distance  it  cannot  be  seen.  There  !  Just  there,  it  is,  I  think, 
very  plainly  to  be  seen,"  and  with  the  tip  of  his  brush  he 
pointed  out  a  patch  of  transparent  color  to  the  two  painters. 

Porbus,  laying  a  hand  on  the  old  artist's  shoulder,  turned  to 
Poussin  with  a  "  Do  you  know  that  in  him  we  see  a  very  great 
painter?" 

"He  is  even  more  of  a  poet  than  a  painter,"  Poussin  an- 
swered gravely. 

"There,"  Porbus  continued,  as  he  touched  the  canvas, 
"lies  the  utmost  limit  of  our  art  on  earth." 

"Beyond  that  point  it  loses  itself  in  the  skies,"  said 
Poussin. 

"  What  joys  lie  there  on  that  piece  of  canvas  !  "  exclaimed 
Porbus. 

The  old  man,  deep  in  his  own  musings,  smiled  at  the  woman 
he  alone  beheld,  and  did  not  hear. 

"But  sooner  or  later  he  will  find  out  that  there  is  nothing 
there  !  "  cried  Poussin. 

"Nothing  on  my  canvas  !  "  said  Frenhofer,  looking  in  turn 
at  either  painter  and  at  his  picture. 


THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE.  253 

"What  have  you  done?"  muttered  Porbus,  turning  to 
Poussin. 

The  old  man  clutched  the  young  painter's  arm  and  said, 
"  Do  you  see  nothing  ?  clodpate  ?  Huguenot !  varlet !  cullion  ! 
What  brought  you  here  into  my  studio  ?  My  good  Porbus," 
he  went  on,  as  he  turned  to  the  painter,  "  are  you  also  making 
a  fool  of  me  ?  Answer !  I  am  your  friend.  Tell  me,  have  I 
ruined  my  picture  after  all  ?  " 

Porbus  hesitated  and  said  nothing,  but  there  was  such  intol- 
erable anxiety  in  the  old  man's  white  face  that  he  pointed  to 
the  easel. 

"Look!"  he  said. 

Frenhofer  looked  for  a  moment  at  his  picture,  and  staggered 
back. 

"  Nothing  !  nothing  !  After  ten  years  of  work " 

He  sat  down  and  wept. 

"So  I  am  a  dotard,  a  madman,  I  have  neither  talent  nor 
power !  I  am  only  a  rich  man,  who  works  for  his  own 
pleasure,  and  makes  no  progress.  I  have  done  nothing 
after  all!" 

He  looked  through  his  tears  at  his  picture.  Suddenly  he 
rose  and  stood  proudly  before  the  two  painters. 

"By  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ,"  he  cried  with  flashing 
eyes,  "you  are  jealous  !  You  would  have  me  think  that  my 
picture  is  a  failure  because  you  want  to  steal  her  from  me ! 
Ah!  I  see  her,  I  see  her,"  he  cried,  "she  is  marvelously 
beautiful " 

At  that  moment  Poussin  heard  the  sound  of  weeping ;  Gil- 
lette was  crouching  forgotten  in  a  corner.  All  at  once  the 
painter  again  became  the  lover.  "What  is  it,  my  angel?"  he 
asked  her. 

"  Kill  me  !  "  she  sobbed.  "  I  must  be  a  vile  thing  if  I  love 
you  still,  for  I  despise  you.  I  admire  you,  and  I  loathe  you  ! 
I  love  you,  and  I  feel  that  I  hate  you  even  now." 

While  Gillette's  words  sounded  in  Poussin's  ears,  Frenhofer 


254  THE    UNKNOWN  MASTERPIECE. 

drew  a  green  serge  covering  over  his  Catherine  with  the  sober 
deliberation  of  a  jeweler  who  locks  his  drawers  when  he  sus- 
pects his  visitors  to  be  expert  thieves.  He  gave  the  two 
painters  a  profoundly  astute  glance  that  expressed  to  the  full 
his  suspicions  and  his  contempt  for  them,  saw  them  out  of  his 
studio  with  impetuous  haste  and  in  silence,  until  from  the 
threshold  of  his  house  he  bade  them  "Good-bye,  my  young 
friends!" 

That  farewell  struck  a  chill  of  dread  into  the  two  painters. 
Porbus,  in  anxiety,  went  again  on  the  morrow  to  see  Fren- 
hofer,  and  learned  that  he  had  died  in  the  night  after  burning 
his  canvases. 

PARIS,  February,  1832. 


CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS. 

{Christ  en  Flanders.} 

To  Marcelline  Desbordes-Valmore,  a  daughter  of 
Flanders,  of  whom  these  modern  days  may  well  be 
proud,  I  dedicate  this  quaint  legend  of  old  Flanders. 

DE  BALZAC. 

AT  a  dimly  remote  period  in  the  history  of  Brabant,  com- 
munication between  the  Island  of  Cadzand  and  the  Flemish 
coast  was  kept  up  by  a  boat  which  carried  passengers  from  one 
shore  to  the  other.  Middelburg,  the  chief  town  in  the  island, 
destined  to  become  so  famous  in  the  annals  of  Protestantism, 
at  that  time  only  numbered  some  two  or  three  hundred 
hearths ;  and  the  prosperous  town  of  Ostend  was  an  obscure 
haven,  a  straggling  village  where  pirates  dwelt  in  security 
among  the  fishermen  and  the  few  poor  merchants  who  lived 
in  the  place. 

But  though  the  town  of  Ostend  consisted  altogether  of 
some  score  of  houses  and  three  hundred  cottages,  huts  or 
hovels  built  of  the  driftwood  of  wrecked  vessels,  it  neverthe- 
less rejoiced  in  the  possession  of  a  governor,  a  garrison,  a 
forked  gibbet,  a  convent,  and  a  burgomaster ;  in  short,  in  all 
the  institutions  of  an  advanced  civilization. 

Who  reigned  over  Brabant  and  Flanders  in  those  days? 
On  this  point  tradition  is  mute.  Let  us  confess  at  once  that 
this  tale  savours  strongly  of  the  marvelous,  the  mysterious, 
and  the  vague ;  elements  which  Flemish  narrators  have  infused 
into  a  story  retailed  so  often  to  gatherings  of  workers  on 
winter  evenings,  that  the  versions  vary  widely  in  poetic  vnerit 
and  incongruity  of  detail.  It  has  been  told  by  every  genera- 

(255) 


256  CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS, 

tion,  handed  down  by  grandames  at  the  fireside,  narrated 
night  and  day,  and  the  version  has  changed  its  complexion 
somewhat  in  every  age.  Like  some  great  building  that  has 
suffered  many  modifications  of  successive  generations  of 
architects,  some  sombre  weather-beaten  pile,  the  delight  of  a 
poet,  the  story  would  drive  the  commentator  and  the  indus- 
trious winnower  of  words,  facts,  and  dates  to  despair.  The 
narrator  believes  in  it,  as  all  superstitious  minds  in  Flanders 
likewise  believe ;  and  is  not  a  whit  wiser  nor  more  credulous 
than  his  audience.  But  as  it  would  be  impossible  to  make  a 
harmony  of  all  the  different  renderings,  here  are  the  outlines 
of  the  story ;  stripped,  it  may  be,  of  its  picturesque  quaint- 
ness,  but  with  all  its  bold  disregard  of  historical  truth,  and 
its  moral  teaching  approved  by  religion — a  myth,  the  blossom 
of  imaginative  fancy ;  an  allegory  that  the  wise  may  interpret 
to  suit  themselves.  To  each  his  own  pasturage,  and  the  task 
of  separating  the  tares  from  the  wheat. 

The  boat  that  served  to  carry  passengers  from  the  Island  of 
Cadzand  to  Ostend  was  upon  the  point  of  departure  ;  but  be- 
fore the  skipper  loosed  the  chain  that  secured  the  shallop  to 
the  little  jetty,  where  people  embarked,  he  blew  a  horn  several 
times,  to  warn  late-comers,  this  being  his  last  journey  that 
day.  Night  was  falling.  It  was  scarcely  possible  to  see  the 
coast  of  Flanders  by  the  dying  fires  of  the  sunset,  or  to  make 
out  upon  the  hither  shore  any  forms  of  belated  passengers 
hurrying  along  the  wall  of  the  dykes  that  surrounded  the 
open  country,  or  among  the  tall  reeds  of  the  marshes.  The 
boat  was  full. 

"  What  are  you  waiting  for?     Let  us  put  off !  "  they  cried. 

Just  at  that  moment  a  man  appeared  a  few  paces  from  the 
jetty,  to  the  surprise  of  the  skipper,  who  had  heard  no  sound 
of  footsteps.  The  traveler  seemed  to  have  sprung  up  from 
the  earth,  like  a  peasant  who  had  laid  himself  down  on  the 
ground  to  wait  till  the  boat  should  start,  and  had  slept  till  the 


CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS.  257 

sound  of  the  horn  awakened  him.     Was  he  a  thief?  or  some 
one  belonging  to  the  custom-house  or  the  police? 

As  soon  as  the  man  appeared  on  the  jetty  to  which  the  boat 
was  moored,  seven  persons  who  were  standing  in  the  stern  of 
the  shallop  hastened  to  sit  down  on  the  benches,  so  as  to  leave 
no  room  for  the  new-comer.  It  was  the  swift  and  instinctive 
working  of  the  aristocratic  spirit,  an  impulse  of  exclusiveness 
that  comes  from  the  rich  man's  heart.  Four  of  the  seven 
personages  belonged  to  the  most  aristocratic  families  in  Flan- 
ders. First  among  them  was  a  young  knight  with  two  beauti- 
ful greyhounds ;  his  long  hair  flowed  from  beneath  a  jeweled 
cap ;  he  clanked  his  gilded  spurs,  curled  the  ends  of  his  mus- 
tache from  time  to  time  with  a  swaggering  grace,  and  looked 
round  disdainfully  on  the  rest  of  the  crew.  A  high-born  dam- 
sel, with  a  falcon  on  her  wrist,  only  spoke  with  her  mother  or 
with  a  churchman  of  high  rank,  who  was  evidently  a  relation. 
All  these  persons  made  a  great  deal  of  noise,  and  talked 
among  themselves  as  though  there  were  no  one  else  in  the 
boat ;  yet  close  beside  them  sat  a  man  of  great  importance  in 
the  district,  a  stout  burgher  of  Bruges,  wrapped  about  with  a 
vast  cloak.  His  servant,  armed  to  the  teeth,  had  set  down  a 
couple  of  bags  filled  with  gold  at  his  side.  Next  to  the 
burgher  came  a  man  of  learning,  a  doctor  of  the  University  of 
Louvain,  who  was  traveling  with  his  clerk.  This  little  group 
of  folk,  who  looked  contemptuously  at  each  other,  was  separ- 
ated from  the  passengers  in  the  forward  part  of  the  boat  by  the 
bench  of  rowers. 

The  belated  traveler  glanced  about  him  as  he  stepped  on 
board,  saw  that  there  was  no  room  for  him  in  the  stern,  and 
went  to  the  bow  in  quest  of  a  seat.  They  were  all  poor 
people  there.  At  first  sight  of  the  bareheaded  man  in  the 
brown  camlet  coat  and  trunk-hose,  and  plain  stiff  linen  collar, 
they  noticed  that  he  wore  no  ornaments,  carried  no  cap  nor 
bonnet  in  his  hand,  and  had  neither  sword  nor  purse  at  his 
girdle,  and  one  and  all  took  him  for  a  burgomaster  sure  of  his 
17 


258  CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS. 

authority,  a  worthy  and  kindly  burgomaster  like  so  'many  a 
Fleming  of  old  times,  whose  homely  features  and  characters 
have  been  immortalized  by  Flemish  painters.  The  poorer 
passengers,  therefore,  received  him  with  demonstrations  of 
respect  that  provoked  scornful  tittering  at  the  other  end  of  the 
boat.  An  old  soldier,  inured  to  toil  and  hardship,  gave  up 
his  place  on  the  bench  to  the  new-comer,  and  seated  himself 
on  the  edge  of  the  vessel,  keeping  his  balance  by  planting  his 
feet  against  one  of  those  transverse  beams,  like  the  backbone 
of  a  fish,  that  hold  the  planks  of  a  boat  together.  A  young 
mother,  who  bore  her  baby  in  her  arms,  and  seemed  to  belong 
to  the  working  class  in  Ostend,  moved  aside  to  make  room  for 
the  stranger.  There  was  neither  servility  nor  scorn  in  her 
manner  of  doing  this;  it  was  a  simple  sign  of  the  good-will  by 
which  the  poor,  who  know  by  long  experience  the  value  of  a 
service  and  the  warmth  that  fellowship  brings,  give  expression 
to  the  openheartedness  and  the  natural  impulses  of  their  souls; 
so  artlessly  do  they  reveal  their  good  qualities  and  their  de- 
fects. The  stranger  thanked  her  by  a  gesture  full  of  gracious 
dignity,  and  took  his  place  between  the  young  mother  and  the 
old  soldier.  Immediately  behind  him  sat  a  peasant  and  his 
son,  a  boy  ten  years  of  age.  A  beggar  woman,  old,  wrinkled 
and  clad  in  rags,  was  crouching,  with  her  almost  empty  wal- 
let, on  a  great  coil  of  rope  that  lay  in  the  prow.  One  of  the 
rowers,  an  old  sailor,  who  had  known  her  in  the  days  of  her 
beauty  and  prosperity,  had  let  her  come  in  "  for  the  love  of 
God,"  in  the  beautiful  phrase  that  the  common  people  use. 

"Thank  you  kindly,  Thomas,"  the  old  woman  had  said. 
"  I  will  say  two  Paters  and  two  Avcs  for  you  in  my  prayers 
to-night." 

The  skipper  blew  his  horn  for  the  last  time,  looked  along 
the  silent  shore,  flung  off  the  chain,  ran  along  the  side  of  the 
boat,  and  took  up  his  position  at  the  helm.  He  looked  at  the 
sky,  and  as  soon  as  they  were  out  in  the  open  sea,  he  shouted 
to  the  men :  "  Pull  away,  pull  with  all  your  might !  The  sea 


CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS.  259 

is  smiling  at  a  squall,  the  witch  !  I  can  feel  the  swell  by  the 
way  the  rudder  works,  and  the  storm  in  my  wounds." 

The  nautical  phrases,  unintelligible  to  ears  unused  to  the 
sound  of  the  sea,  seemed  to  put  fresh  energy  into  the  oars ; 
they  kept  time  together,  the  rhythm,  of  the  movement  was 
still  even  and  steady,  but  quite  unlike  the  previous  manner  of 
rowing ;  it  was  as  if  a  cantering  horse  had  broken  into  a  gallop. 
The  gay  company  seated  in  the  stern  amused  themselves  by 
watching  the  brawny  arms,  the  tanned  faces,  and  sparkling 
eyes  of  the  rowers,  the  play  of  the  tense  muscles,  the  physical 
and  mental  forces  that  were  being  exerted  to  bring  them  for 
a  trifling  toll  across  the  channel.  So  far  from  pitying  the 
rowers'  distress,  they  pointed  out  the  men's  faces  to  each  other, 
and  laughed  at  the  grotesque  expressions  on  the  faces  of  the 
crew  who  were  straining  every  muscle ;  but  in  the  fore  part 
of  the  boat  the  soldier,  the  peasant,  and  the  old  beggar  woman 
watched  the  sailors  with  the  sympathy  naturally  felt  by  toilers 
who  live  by  the  sweat  of  their  brow  and  know  the  rough 
struggle,  the  strenuous  excitement  of  effort.  These  folk,  more- 
over, whose  lives  were  spent  in  the  open  air,  had  all  seen  the 
warnings  of  danger  in  the  sky,  and  their  faces  were  grave. 
The  young  mother  rocked  her  child,  singing  an  old  hymn  of 
the  Church  for  a  lullaby. 

"If  we  ever  get  there  at  all,"  the  soldier  remarked  to  the 
peasant,"  it  will  be  because  the  Almighty  is  bent  on  keeping 
us  alive." 

"Ah!  He  is  the  Master,"  said  the  old  woman,  "but  I 
think  it  will  be  His  good  pleasure  to  take  us  to  Himself.  Just 

look  at  that  light  down  there "  and  she  nodded  her  head 

towards  the  sunset  as  she  spoke. 

Streaks  of  fiery  red  glared  from  behind  the  masses  of 
crimson-flushed  brown  cloud  that  seemed  about  to  unloose  a 
furious  gale.  There  was  a  smothered  murmur  of  the  sea,  a 
moaning  sound  that  seemed  to  come  from  the  depths,  a  low 
warning  growl,  such  as  a  dog  gives  when  he  only  means  mis- 


260  CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS. 

chief  as  yet.  After  all,  Ostend  was  not  far  away.  Perhaps 
painting,  like  poetry,  could  not  prolong  the  existence  of  the 
picture  presented  by  sea  and  sky  at  that  moment  beyond  the 
time  of  its  actual  duration.  Art  demands  vehement  contrasts, 
wherefore  artists  usually  seek  out  nature's  most  striking  effects, 
doubtless  because  they  despair  of  rendering  the  great  and 
glorious  charm  of  her  daily  moods ;  yet  the  human  soul  is 
often  stirred  as  deeply  by  her  calm  as  by  her  emotion,  and  by 
silence  as  by  storm. 

For  a  moment  no  one  spoke  on  board  the  boat.  Every  one 
watched  that  sea  and  sky,  either  with  some  presentiment  of 
danger,  or  because  they  felt  the  influence  of  the  religious 
melancholy  that  takes  possession  of  nearly  all  of  us  at  the 
close  of  day,  the  hour  of  prayer,  when  all  nature  is  hushed 
save  for  the  voices  of  the  bells.  The  sea  gleamed  pale  and 
wan,  but  its  hues  changed,  and  the  surface  took  all  the  colors  of 
steel.  The  sky  was  almost  overspread  with  livid  gray,  but  down 
in  the  west  there  were  long  narrow  bars  like  streaks  of  blood; 
while  lines  of  bright  light  in  the  eastern  sky,  sharp  and  clean 
as  if  drawn  by  the  tip  of  a  brush,  were  separated  by  folds  of 
cloud,  like  the  wrinkles  on  an  old  man's  brow.  The  whole  scene 
made  a  background  of  ashen  grays  and  half-tints,  in  strong 
contrast  to  the  bale-fires  of  the  sunset.  If  written  language 
might  borrow  of  spoken  language  some  of  the  bold  figures  of 
speech  invented  by  the  people,  it  might  be  said  with  the 
soldier  that  "  the  weather  had  been  routed,"  or,  as  the  peasant 
would  say,  "  the  sky  glowered  like  an  executioner."  Suddenly 
a  wind  arose  from  the  quarter  of  the  sunset,  and  the  skipper, 
who  never  took  his  eyes  off  the  sea,  saw  the  swell  on  the  hori- 
zon line,  and  cried — 

"  Stop  rowing  !  " 

The  sailors  stopped  immediately,  and  let  their  oars  lie  on 
the  water. 

"  The  skipper  is  right,"  said  Thomas  coolly.  A  great  wave 
caught  up  the  boat,  carried  it  high  on  its  crest,  only  to  plunge 


CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS.  261 

it,  as  it  were,  into  the  trough  of  the  sea  that  seemed  to  yawn 
for  them.  At  this  mighty  upheaval,  this  sudden  outbreak  of 
the  wrath  of  the  sea,  the  company  in  the  stern  turned  pale, 
and  sent  up  a  terrible  cry. 

"We  are  lost !  " 

"Oh,  not  yet!  "  said  the  skipper  calmly. 

As  he  spoke,  the  clouds  immediately  above  their  heads  were 
torn  asunder  by  the  vehemence  of  the  wind.  The  gray  mass 
was  rent  and  scattered  east  and  west  with  ominous  speed,  a 
dim  uncertain  light  from  the  rift  in  the  sky  fell  full  upon  the 
boat,  and  the  travelers  beheld  each  other's  faces.  All  of  them, 
the  noble  and  the  wealthy,  the  sailors  and  the  poor  passengers 
alike,  were  amazed  for  a  moment  by  the  appearance  of  the  last 
comer.  His  golden  hair,  parted  upon  his  calm,  serene  fore- 
head, fell  in  thick  curls  about  his  shoulders ;  and  his  face, 
sublime  in  its  sweetness  and  radiant  with  divine  love,  stood  out 
against  the  surrounding  gloom.  He  had  no  contempt  for 
death ;  he  knew  that  he  should  not  die.  But  if  at  the  first  the 
company  in  the  stern  forgot  for  a  moment  the  implacable  fury 
of  the  storm  that  threatened  their  lives,  selfishness  and  their 
habits  of  life  soon  prevailed  again. 

"  How  lucky  that  stupid  burgomaster  is  not  to  see  the  risks 
we  are  all  running  !  He  is  just  like  a  dog,  he  will  die  with- 
out a  struggle,"  said  the  doctor. 

He  had  scarcely  pronounced  this  highly  judicious  dictum 
when  the  storm  unloosed  all  its  legions.  The  wind  blew  from 
every  quarter  of  the  heavens,  the  boat  spun  round  like  a  top, 
and  the  sea  broke  in. 

"  Oh  !  my  poor  child  !  My  poor  child  ! Who  will  save 

my  baby  ?  "  the  mother  cried  in  a  heartrending  voice. 

"  You  yourself  will  save  it,"  the  stranger  said. 

The  thrilling  tones  of  that  voice  went  to  the  young  mother's 
heart  and  brought  hope  with  them ;  she  heard  the  gracious 
words  through  all  the  whistling  of  the  wind  and  the  shrieks  of 
the  passengers. 


262  CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS. 

"  Holy  Virgin  of  Good  Help,  who  art  at  Antwerp,  I 
promise  thee  a  thousand  pounds  of  wax  and  a  statue,  if  thou 
wilt  rescue  me  from  this!  "  cried  the  burgher,  kneeling  upon 
his  bags  of  gold. 

"  The  Virgin  is  no  more  at  Antwerp  than  she  is  here,"  was 
the  doctor's  comment  on  this  appeal. 

"She  is  in  heaven,"  said  a  voice  that  seemed  to  come  from 
the  sea. 

"Who  said  that?" 

"  'Tis  the  devil !  "  exclaimed  the  servant.  "  He  is  scoffing 
at  the  Virgin  of  Antwerp." 

"  Let  us  have  no  more  of  your  Holy  Virgin  at  present," 
the  skipper  cried  to  the  passengers.  "  Put  your  hands  to  the 
scoops  and  bale  the  water  out  of  the  boat.  And  the  rest 
of  you,"  he  went  on,  addressing  the  sailors,  "  pull  with  all 
your  might  !  Now  is  the  time ;  in  the  name  of  the  devil  who 
is  leaving  you  in  this  world,  be  your  own  Providence  !  Every 
one  knows  that  the  channel  is  fearfully  dangerous  ;  I  have 
been  to  and  fro  across  it  these  thirty  years.  Am  I  facing  a 
storm  for  the  first  time  to-night?" 

He  stood  at  the  helm,  and  looked,  as  before,  at  his  boat  and 
at  the  sea  and  sky  in  turn. 

"The  skipper  always  laughs  at  everything,"  muttered 
Thomas. 

"  Will  God  leave  us  to  perish  along  with  those  wretched 
creatures  ? ' '  asked  the  haughty  damsel  of  the  handsome 
cavalier. 

"No,  no,  noble  maiden.  Listen!"  and  he  caught  her 
by  the  waist  and  said  in  her  ear,  "  I  can  swim ;  say  nothing 
about  it  !  I  will  hold  you  by  your  fair  hair  and  bring  you 
safely  to  the  shore;  but  I  can  only  save  you." 

The  girl  looked  at  her  aged  mother.  The  lady  was  on  her 
knees  entreating  absolution  of  the  bishop,  who  did  not  heed 
her.  In  the  beautiful  eyes  the  knight  read  a  vague  feeling  of 
filial  piety,  and  spoke  in  a  smothered  voice : 


CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS.  263 

"  Submit  yourself  to  the  will  of  God.  If  it  is  His  pleasure 
to  take  your  mother  to  Himself,  it  will  doubtless  be  for  her 
happiness — in  the  other  world,"  he  added,  and  his  voice 
dropped  still  lower.  "  And  for  ours  in  this,"  he  thought 
within  himself. 

The  Dame  of  Rupelmonde  was  lady  of  seven  fiefs  beside 
the  barony  of  Gavres. 

The  girl  felt  the  longing  for  life  in  her  heart,  and  for  love 
that  spoke  through  the  handsome  adventurer,  a  young  mis- 
creant who  haunted  churches  in  search  of  a  prize,  an  heiress 
to  marry  or  ready  money.  The  bishop  bestowed  his  benison 
on  the  waves,  and  bade  them  be  calm ;  it  was  all  that  he  could 
do.  He  thought  of  his  concubine,  and  of  the  delicate  feast 
with  which  she  would  welcome  him ;  perhaps  at  that  very  mo- 
ment she  was  bathing,  perfuming  herself,  robing  herself  in 
velvet,  fastening  her  necklace  and  her  jeweled  clasps,  and  the 
perverse  bishop  so  far  from  thinking  of  the  power  of  Holy 
Church,  of  his  duty  to  comfort  Christians  and  exhort  them  to 
trust  in  God,  that  worthy's  regrets  and  lover's  sighs  mingled 
with  the  holy  words  of  the  breviary.  By  the  dim  light  that 
shone  on  the  pale  faces  of  the  company,  it  was  possible  to  see 
their  differing  expressions  as  the  boat  was  lifted  high  in  air  by 
a  wave,  to  be  cast  back  into  the  dark  depths ;  the  shallop 
quivered  like  a  fragile  leaf,  the  plaything  of  the  north  wind 
in  the  autumn;  the  hull  creaked,  it  seemed  ready  to  go  to 
pieces.  Fearful  shrieks  went  up,  followed  by  an  awful  silence. 

There  was  a  strange  difference  between  the  behavior  of  the 
folk  in  the  bow  and  that  of  the  rich  or  great  people  at  the 
other  end  of  the  boat.  The  young  mother  clasped  her  infant 
tightly  to  her  breast  every  time  that  a  great  wave  threatened 
to  engulf  the  fragile  vessel ;  but  she  clung  to  the  hope  that 
the  stranger's  words  had  set  in  her  heart.  Each  time  that  her 
eyes  turned  to  his  face  she  drew  fresh  faith  at  the  sight,  the 
strong  faith  of  a  helpless  woman,  a  mother's  faith.  She  lived 
by  that  divine  promise,  the  loving  words  from  his  lips ;  the 


264  CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS. 

simple  creature  waited  trustingly  for  them  to  be  fulfilled,  and 
scarcely  feared  the  danger  any  longer. 

The  soldier,  holding  fast  to  the  vessel's  side,  never  took  his 
eyes  off  the  strange  visitor.  He  copied  on  his  own  rough  and 
swarthy  features  the  imperturbability  of  the  other's  face,  ap- 
plying to  this  task  the  whole  strength  of  a  will  and  intelli- 
gence but  little  corrupted  in  the  course  of  a  life  of  mechanical 
and  passive  obedience.  So  emulous  was  he  of  a  calm  and 
tranquil  courage  greater  than  his  own,  that  at  last,  perhaps 
unconsciously,  something  of  that  mysterious  nature  passed  into 
his  own  soul.  His  admiration  became  an  instinctive  zeal  for 
this  man,  a  boundless  love  for  and  belief  in  him,  such  a 
love  as  soldiers  feel  for  their  leader  when  he  has  the  power  of 
swaying  other  men,  when  the  halo  of  victories  surrounds  him, 
and  the  magical  fascination  of  genius  is  felt  in  all  that  he 
does.  The  poor  outcast  was  murmuring  to  herself — 

"  Ah  !  miserable  wretch  that  I  am  !  Have  I  not  suffered 
enough  to  expiate  the  sins  of  my  youth?  Ah  !  wretched  wo- 
man, why  did  you  lead  the  gay  life  of  a  frivolous  Frenchwoman  ? 
why  did  you  devour  the  goods  of  God  with  churchmen,  the 
substance  of  the  poor  with  extortioners  and  fleecers  of  the 
poor  ?  Oh  !  I  have  sinned  indeed  !  Oh,  my  God  !  my  God  ! 
let  me  finish  my  time  in  hell  here  in  this  world  of  misery." 
And  again  she  cried,  "  Holy  Virgin,  Mother  of  God,  have 
pity  upon  me !" 

"Be  comforted,  mother.  God  is  not  a  Lombard  usurer.  I 
may  have  killed  people  good  and  bad  at  random  in  my  time, 
but  I  am  not  afraid  of  the  resurrection." 

"  Ah !  Master  Lancepesade,  how  happy  those  fair  ladies 
are,  to  be  so  near  to  a  bishop,  a  holy  man  !  They  will  get 
absolution  for  their  sins,"  said  the  old  woman.  "Oh!  if  I 
could  only  hear  a  priest  say  to  me,  '  Thy  sins  are  forgiven  !  ' 
I  should'believe  it  then." 

The  stranger  turned  towards  her,  and  the  goodness  in  his 
face  made  her  tremble. 


CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS.  265 

"  Have  faith,"  he  said,  "and  you  will  be  saved." 

"May  God  reward  you,  good  sir,"  she  answered.  "If 
what  you  say  is  true,  I  will  go  on  pilgrimage  barefooted 
to  Our  Lady  of  Loretto  to  pray  to  her  for  you  and  for 
me." 

The  two  peasants,  father  and  son,  were  silent,  patient,  and 
submissive  to  the  will  of  God,  like  folk  whose  wont  it  is  to 
fall  in  instinctively  with  the  ways  of  nature  like  cattle.  At 
the  one  end  of  the  boat  stood  riches,  pride,  learning,  de- 
bauchery, and  crime — human  society,  such  as  art  and  thought 
and  education  and  worldly  interests  and  laws  have  made  it ; 
and  at  this  end  there  was  terror  and  wailing,  innumerable 
different  impulses  all  repressed  by  hideous  doubts — at  this 
end,  and  at  this  only,  the  agony  of  fear.  • 

Above  all  these  human  lives  stood  a  strong  man,  the  skip- 
per ;  no  doubts  assailed  him,  the  chief,  the  king,  the  fatalist 
among  them.  He  was  trusting  in  himself  rather  than  in 
Providence,  crying,  "Baleaway!"  instead  of  "  Holy  Virgin," 
defying  the  storm,  in  fact,  and  struggling  with  the  sea  like  a 
wrestler. 

But  the  helpless  poor  at  the  other  end  of  the  wherry  !  The 
mother  rocking  on  her  bosom  the  little  one  who  smiled  at 
the  storm ;  the  woman  once  so  frivolous  and  gay,  and  now 
tormented  with  bitter  remorse;  the  old  soldier  covered  with 
scars,  a  mutilated  life  the  sole  reward  of  his  unflagging  loyalty 
and  faithfulness.  This  veteran  could  scarcely  count  on  the 
morsel  of  bread  soaked  in  tears  to  keep  the  life  in  him,  yet 
he  was  always  ready  to  laugh,  and  went  his  way  merrily, 
happy  when  he  could  drown  his  glory  in  the  depths  of  a  pot 
of  beer,  or  could  tell  tales  of  the  wars  to  the  children  who 
admired  him,  leaving  his  future  with  a  light  heart  in  the 
hands  of  God.  Lastly,  there  were  the  two  peasants,  used  to 
hardships  and  toil,  labor  incarnate,  the  labor  by  which  the 
world  lives.  These  simple  folk  were  indifferent  to  thought 
and  its  treasures,  ready  to  sink  them  all  in  a  belief;  and  their 


266  CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS. 

faith  was  but  so  much  the  more  vigorous  because  they  had 
never  disputed  about  it  nor  analyzed  it.  Such  a  nature  is  a 
virgin  soil,  conscience  has  not  been  tampered  with,  feeling  is 
deep  and  strong;  repentance,  trouble,  love,  and  work  have 
developed,  purified,  concentrated,  and  increased  their  force 
of  will  a  hundred  times,  the  will — the  one  thing  in  man  that 
resembles  what  learned  doctors  call  the  soul. 

The  boat,  guided  by  the  wellnigh  miraculous  skill  of  the 
steersman,  came  almost  within  sight  of  Ostend,  when,  not 
fifty  paces  from  the  shore,  she  was  suddenly  struck  by  a  heavy 
sea  and  capsized.  The  stranger  with  the  light  about  his  head 
spoke  to  this  little  world  of  drowning  creatures — 

"Those  who  have  faith  shall  be  saved;  let  them  follow 
me  !  '*' 

He  stood  upright,  and  walked  with  a  firm  step  upon  the 
waves.  The  young  mother  at  once  took  her  child  in  her 
arms,  and  followed  at  his  side  across  the  sea.  The  soldier,  too, 
sprang  up,  saying  in  his  homely  fashion,  "  Ah !  nom  (fun 
pipe!  I  would  follow  you  to  the  devil;  "  and  without  seem- 
ing astonished  by  it,  he  walked  on  the  water.  The  old  worn- 
out  sinner,  believing  in  the  omnipotence  of  God,  also  followed 
the  stranger. 

The  two  peasants  said  to  each  other,  "  If  they  are  walking 
on  the  sea,  why  should  we  not  do  as  they  do?  "  and  they  also 
arose  and  hastened  after  the  others.  Thomas  tried  to  follow, 
but  his  faith  tottered ;  he  sank  in  the  sea  more  than  once, 
and  arose  again,  but  the  third  time  he  also  walked  on  the  sea. 
The  bold  steersman  clung  like  a  remora  to  the  wreck  of  his 
boat.  The  miser  had  had  faith,  and  had  risen  to  go,  but  he 
tried  to  take  his  gold  with  him,  and  it  was  his  gold  that 
dragged  him  down  to  the  bottom.  The  learned  man  had 
scoffed  at  the  charlatan  and  at  the  fools  who  listened  to  him, 
and,  when  he  heard  the  mysterious  stranger  propose  to  the 
passengers  that  they  should  walk  on  the  waves,  he  began  to 
laugh,  and  the  ocean  swallowed  him.  The  girl  was  dragged 


CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS.  267 

down  into  the  depths  by  her  lover.  The  bishop  and  the 
older  lady  went  to  the  bottom,  heavily  laden  with  sins,  it  may 
be,  but  still  more  heavily  laden  with  incredulity  and  confi- 
dence in  idols,  weighted  down  by  devotion,  into  which  alms- 
deeds  and  true  religion  entered  but  little. 

The  faithful  flock,  who  walked  with  a  firm  step  high  and  dry 
above  the  surge,  heard  all  about  them  the  dreadful  whistling 
of  the  blast ;  great  billows  broke  across  their  path,  but  an 
irresistible  force  cleft  a  way  for  them  through  the  sea.  These 
believing  ones  saw  through  the  spray  a  dim  speck  of  light 
flickering  in  the  window  of  a  fisherman's  hut  on  the  shore, 
and  each  one,  as  he  pushed  on  bravely  towards  the  light, 
seemed  to  hear  the  voice  of  his  fellow  crying,  "  Courage  !  " 
through  all  the  roaring  of  the  surf;  yet  no  one  had  spoken  a 
word — so  absorbed  was  each  by  his  own  peril.  In  this  way 
they  reached  the  shore,  and  eventually  found  shelter  in  the 
fisherman's  hut. 

When  they  were  all  seated  near  the  fisherman's  fire,  they 
looked  round  in  vain  for  their  guide  with  the  light  about  him. 
The  sea  washed  up  the  steersman  at  the  base  of  the  cliff  on 
which  the  cottage  stood  ;  he  was  clinging  with  might  and 
main  to  the  plank  as  only  a  sailor  can  cling  when  death  stares 
him  in  the  face  ;  the  stranger  guide  went  down  and  rescued  the 
almost  exhausted  seaman  ;  then  he  said,  as  he  held  out  a 
succoring  hand  above  the  man's  head — - 

"Good,  for  this  once;  but  do  not  try  it  again;  the  ex- 
ample would  be  too  bad." 

He  took  the  skipper  on  his  shoulders,  and  carried  him  to  the 
fisherman's  door,  knocked  for  admittance  for  the  exhausted 
man ;  then,  when  the  door  of  the  humble  refuge  opened,  the 
Saviour  disappeared. 

The  Convent  of  Mercy  was  built  for  sailors  on  this  spot, 
where  for  a  long  time  afterwards  (so  it  was  said)  the  foot- 
prints of  Jesus  Christ  could  be  seen  in  the  sand  ;  but  in  1 793, 
at  the  time  of  the  French  invasion,  the  monks  carried  away 


268  CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS. 

this  precious  relic,  that  bore  witness  to  the  Saviour's  last  visit 
to  earth. 

There  at  the  convent  I  found  myself  shortly  after  the 
Revolution  of  1830.  I  was  weary  of  life.  If  you  had  asked 
me  the  reason  of  my  despair,  I  should  have  found  it  almost 
impossible  to  give  it,  so  languid  had  grown  the  soul  that  was 
melted  within  me.  The  west  wind  had  slackened  the  springs 
of  my  intelligence.  A  cold,  gray  light  poured  down  from  the 
heavens,  and  the  murky  clouds  that  passed  overhead  gave  a 
boding  look  to  the  land ;  all  these  things,  together  with  the 
immensity  of  the  sea,  said  to  me,  "Die  to-day  or  die  to- 
morrow, still  must  we  not  die?  "  And  then  I  wandered  on, 
musing  on  the  doubtful  future,  on  my  blighted  hopes.  Gnawed 
by  these  gloomy  thoughts,  I  turned  mechanically  into  the 
convent  church,  with  the  gray  towers  that  loomed  like  ghosts 
through  the  sea  mists.  I  looked  round  with  no  kindling  of 
the  imagination  at  the  forest  of  columns,  at  the  slender  arches 
set  aloft  upon  the  leafy  capitals,  a  delicate  labyrinth  of  sculp- 
ture. I  walked  with  careless  eyes  along  the  side  aisles  that 
opened  out  before  me  like  vast  portals,  ever  turning  upon  their 
hinges.  It  was  scarcely  possible  to  see,  by  the  dim  light  of 
the  autumn  day,  the  sculptured  grainings  of  the  roof,  the 
delicate  and  clean-cut  lines  of  the  mouldings  of  the  graceful 
pointed  arches.  The  organ  pipes  were  mute.  There  was  no 
sound  save  the  noise  of  my  own  footsteps  to  awaken  the 
mournful  echoes  lurking  in  the  dark  chapels.  I  sat  down  at 
the  base  of  one  of  the  four  pillars  that  supported  the  tower, 
near  the  choir.  Thence  I  could  see  the  whole  of  the  building. 
I  gazed,  and  no  ideas  connected  with  it  arose  in  my  mind.  I 
saw  without  seeing  the  mighty  maze  of  pillars,  the  great  rose 
windows  that  hung  like  a  network  suspended  as  by  a  miracle 
in  air  above  the  vast  doorways.  I  saw  the  doors  at  the  end 
of  the  side  aisles,  the  aerial  galleries,  the  stained  glass  windows 
framed  in  archways,  divided  by  slender  columns,  fretted  into 


CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS.  269 

flower  forms  and  trefoil  by  fine  filigree  work  of  carved  stone. 
A  dome  of  glass  at  the  end  of  the  choir  sparkled  as  if  it  had 
been  built  of  precious  stones  set  cunningly.  In  contrast  to 
the  roof  with  its  alternating  spaces  of  whiteness  and  color,  the 
two  aisles  lay  to  right  and  left  in  shadow  so  deep  that  the  faint 
gray  outlines  of  their  hundred  shafts  were  scarcely  visible  in 
the  gloom.  I  gazed  at  the  marvelous  arcades,  the  scroll-work, 
the  garlands,  the  curving  lines,  and  arabesques  interwoven 
and  interlaced,  and  strangely  lighted,  until  by  sheer  dint  of 
gazing  my  perception  became  confused,  and  I  stood  upon  the 
borderland  between  illusion  and  reality,  taken  in  the  snare  set 
for  the  eyes,  and  almost  light-headed  by  reason  of  the  multi- 
tudinous changes  of  the  shapes  about  me. 

Imperceptibly  a  mist  gathered  about  the  carven  stonework, 
and  I  only  beheld  it  through  a  haze  of  fine  golden  dust,  like 
the  motes  that  hover  in  the  bars  of  sunlight  slanting  through 
the  air  of  a  chamber.  Suddenly  the  stone  lacework  of  the 
rose  windows  gleamed  through  this  vapor  that  had  made  all 
forms  so  shadowy.  Every  moulding,  the  edges  of  every 
carving,  the  least  detail  of  the  sculpture  were  dipped  in  silver. 
The  sunlight  kindled  fires  in  the  stained  windows,  their  rich 
colors  sent  out  glowing  sparks  of  light.  The  shafts  began  to 
tremble,  the  capitals  were  gently  shaken.  A  light  shudder  as 
of  delight  ran  through  the  building,  the  stones  were  loosened 
in  their  setting,  the  wall-spaces  swayed  with  graceful  caution. 
Here  and  there  a  ponderous  pier  moved  as  solemnly  as  a 
dowager  when  she  condescends  to  complete  a  quadrille  at  the 
close  of  a  ball.  A  few  slender  and  graceful  columns,  their 
heads  adorned  with  wreaths  of  trefoil,  began  to  laugh  and 
dance  here  and  there.  Some  of  the  pointed  arches  dashed  at 
the  tall  lancet  windows,  which,  like  ladies  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  wore  the  armorial  bearings  of  their  houses  emblazoned 
on  their  golden  robes.  The  dance  of  the  mitred  arcades 
with  the  slender  windows  became  like  a  fray  at  a  tourney. 

In  another  moment  every  stone  in  the  church   vibrated, 


270  CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS. 

without  leaving  its  place ;  for  the  organ-pipes  spoke,  and  I 
heard  divine  music  mingling  with  the  songs  of  angels,  an  un- 
earthly harmony,  accompanied  by  the  deep  notes  of  the  bells, 
that  boomed  as  the  giant  towers  rocked  and  swayed  on  their 
square  bases.  This  strange  Sabbath  seemed  to  me  the  most 
natural  thing  in  the  world  ;  and  I,  who  had  seen  Charles  X. 
hurled  from  his  throne,  was  no  longer  amazed  by  anything. 
Nay,  I  myself  was  gently  swaying  with  a  see-saw  movement 
that  influenced  my  nerves  pleasurably  in  a  manner  of  which  it 
is  impossible  to  give  any  idea.  Yet  in  the  midst  of  this 
heated  riot,  the  cathedral  choir  felt  cold  as  if  it  were  a  winter 
day,  and  I  became  aware  of  a  multitude  of  women,  robed  in 
white,  silent,  and  impassive,  sitting  there.  The  sweet  incense 
smoke  that  arose  from  the  censers  was  grateful  to  my  soul. 
The  tall  wax  candles  flickered.  The  lectern,  gay  as  a  chanter 
undone  by  the  treachery  of  wine,  was  skipping  about  like  a 
peal  of  Chinese  bells. 

Then  I  knew  that  the  whole  cathedral  was  whirling  round 
so  fast  that  everything  appeared  to  be  undisturbed.  The 
colossal  figure  on  the  crucifix  above  the  altar  smiled  upon  me 
with  a  mingled  malice  and  benevolence  that  frightened  me ; 
I  turned  my  eyes  away,  and  marveled  at  the  bluish  vapor  that 
slid  across  the  pillars,  lending  to  them  an  indescribable 
charm.  Then  some  graceful  women's  forms  began  to  stir  on 
the  friezes.  The  cherubs  which  upheld  the  heavy  columns 
shook  out  their  wings.  I  felt  myself  uplifted  by  some  divine 
power  that  steeped  me  in  infinite  joy,  in  a  sweet  and  languid 
rapture.  I  would  have  given  my  life,  I  think,  to  have  pro- 
longed these  phantasmagoria  for  a  little,  but  suddenly  a  shrill 
voice  clamored  in  my  ears — 

"  Awake  and  follow  me  !  " 

A  withered  woman  took  my  hand  in  hers  ;  its  icy  coldness 
crept  through  every  nerve.  The  bones  of  her  face  showed 
plainly  through  the  sallow,  almost  olive-tinted  wrinkles  of  the 
skin.  The  shrunken,  ice-cold,  old  woman  wore  a  black  robe, 


CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS.  271 

which  she  trailed  in  the  dust,  and  at  her  throat  there  was 
something  white,  which  I  dared  not  examine.  I  could 
scarcely  see  her  wan  and  colorless  eyes,  for  they  were  fixed  in 
a  stare  upon  the  heavens.  She  drew  me  after  her  along  the 
aisles,  leaving  a  trace  of  her  presence  in  the  ashes  that  she 
shook  from  her  dress.  Her  bones  rattled  as  she  walked,  like 
the  bones  of  a  skeleton ;  and  as  we  went  I  heard  behind  me 
the  tinkling  of  a  little  bell,  a  thin,  sharp  sound  that  rang 
through  my  head  like  the  notes  of  a  harmonica. 

"  Suffer  !  "  she  cried,  "  suffer !     So  it  must  be  !  " 

We  came  out  of  the  church  ;  we  went  through  the  dirtiest 
streets  of  the  town,  till  we  came  at  last  to  a  dingy  dwelling, 
and  she  bade  me  enter  in.  She  dragged  me  with  her,  calling 
to  me  in  a  harsh,  tuneless  voice  like  a  cracked  bell — 

"  Defend  me  !  defend  me  !  " 

Together  we  went  up  a  winding  staircase.  She  knocked  at 
a  door  in  the  darkness,  and  a  mute,  like  some  familiar  of  the 
Inquisition,  opened  to  her.  In  another  moment  we  stood  in 
a  room  hung  with  ancient,  ragged  tapestry,  amid  piles  of  old 
linen,  crumpled  muslin,  and  gilded  brass. 

"Behold  the  wealth  that  shall  endure  forever  !  "  said  she. 

I  shuddered  with  horror;  for  just  then,  by  the  light  of  a 
tall. torch  and  two  altar  candles,  I  saw  distinctly  that  this 
woman  was  fresh  from  the  graveyard.  She  had  no  hair.  I 
turned  to  fly.  She  raised  her  fleshless  arm  and  encircled  me 
with  a  band  of  iron  set  with  spikes,  and  as  she  raised  it  a  cry 
went  up  all  about  us,  the  cry  of  millions  of  voices — the  shout- 
ing of  the  dead  ! 

"  It  is  my  purpose  to  make  thee  happy  forever,"  she  said. 
"That  art  my  son." 

We  were  sitting  before  the  hearth,  the  ashes  lay  cold  upon 
it ;  the  old  shrunken  woman  grasped  my  hand  so  tightly  in 
hers  that  I  could  not  choose  but  stay.  I  looked  fixedly  at  her, 
striving  to  read  the  story  of  her  life  from  the  things  among 
which  she  was  crouching.  Had  she  indeed  any  life  in  her  ? 


272  CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS. 

It  was  a  mystery.  Yet  I  saw  plainly  that  once  she  must  have 
been  young  and  beautiful ;  fair,  with  all  the  charm  of  simpli- 
city, perfect  as  some  Greeek  statue,  with  the  brow  of  a  vestal. 
"Ah!  ah!"  I  cried,  "nowjl  know  thee !  Miserable 
woman,  why  has  thou  prostituted  thyself?  In  the  age  of  thy 
passions,  in  the  time  of  thy  prosperity,  the  grace  and  purity 
of  thy  youth  were  forgotten.  Forgetful  of  thy  heroic  devo- 
tion, thy  pure  life,  thy  abundant  faith,  thou  didst  resign  thy 
primitive  power  and  thy  spiritual  supremacy  for  fleshly  power. 
Thy  linen  vestments,  thy  couch  of  moss,  the  cell  in  the  rock, 
bright  with  rays  of  the  Light  Divine,  were  forsaken  ;  thou  hast 
sparkled  with  diamonds,  and  shone  with  the  glitter  of  luxury 
and  pride.  Then,  grown  bold  and  insolent,  seizing  and  over- 
turning all  things  in  thy  course  like  a  courtesan  eager  for 
pleasure  in  her  days  of  splendor,  thou  has  steeped  thyself  in 
blood  like  some  queen  stupefied  by  empery.  Dost  thou  not 
remember  to  have  been  dull  and  heavy  at  times,  and  the  sud- 
den marvelous  lucidity  of  other  moments ;  as  when  art 
emerges  from  an  orgy  ?  Oh  !  poet,  painter,  and  singer,  lover 
of  splendid  ceremonies  and  protector  of  the  arts,  was  thy 
friendship  for  art  perchance  a  caprice,  that  so  thou  shouldst 
sleep  beneath  magnificent  canopies  ?  Was  there  not  a  day 
when,  in  thy  fantastic  pride,  though  chastity  and  humility 
were  prescribed  to  thee,  thou  hadst  brought  all  things  beneath 
thy  feet,  and  set  they  foot  on  the  necks  of  princes ;  when 
earthly  dominion,  and  wealth,  and  the  mind  of  man  bore  thy 
yoke.  Exulting  in  the  abasement  of  humanity,  joying  to 
witness  the  uttermost  lengths  to  which  man's  folly  would  go, 
thou  hast  bidden  thy  lovers  walk  on  all  fours,  and  required  of 
them  their  lands  and  wealth,  nay,  even  their  wives  if  they 
were  worth  aught  to  thee.  Thou  hast  devoured  millions 
of  men  without  a  cause ;  thou  hast  flung  away  lives  like  sand 
blown  by  the  wind  from  west  to  east.  Thou  hast  come  down 
from  the  heights  of  thought  to  sit  among  the  kings  of  men. 
Woman !  instead  of  comforting  men,  thou  hast  tormented 


CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS.  273 

and  afflicted  them  !  Knowing  that  thou  couldst  ask  and 
have,  thou  hast  demanded — blood  !  A  little  flour  surely 
should  have  contented  thee,  accustomed  as  thou  hadst  been  to 
live  on  bread  and  to  mingle  water  with  thy  wine.  Unlike  all 
others  in  all  things,  formerly  thou  wouldst  bid  thy  lovers  fast, 
and  they  obeyed.  Why  should  thy  fancies  have  led  thee  to  re- 
quire things  impossible?  Why,  like  a  courtesan  spoiled  by 
her  lovers,  hast  thou  doted  on  follies,  and  left  those  unde- 
ceived who  sought  to  explain  and  justify  all  thy  errors? 
Then  came  the  days  of  thy  later  passions,  terrible  like  the  love 
of  a  woman  of  forty  years,  with  a  fierce  cry  thou  hast  sought 
to  clasp  the  whole  universe  in  one  last  embrace — and  thy 
universe  recoiled  from  thee  ! 

"Then  old  men  succeeded  to  thy  young  lovers;  decrepi- 
tude came  to  thy  feet  and  made  thee  hideous.  Yet,  even  then, 
men  with  the  eagle  power  of  vision  said  to  thee  in  a  glance, 
'  Thou  shalt  perish  ingloriously,  because  thou  hast  fallen 
away,  because  thou  hast  broken  the  vows  of  thy  maidenhood. 
The  angel  with  peace  written  on  her  forehead,  who  should 
have  shed  light  and  joy  along  her  path,  has  been  a  Messalina, 
delighting  in  the  circus,  in  debauchery,  and  abuse  of  power. 
The  days  of  thy  virginity  cannot  return  ;  henceforward  thou 
shalt  be  subject  to  a  master.  Thy  hour  has  come ;  the  hand 
of  death  is  upon  thee.  Thy  heirs  believe  that  thou  art  rich  ; 
they  will  kill  thee  and  find  nothing.  Yet  try  at  least  to  fling 
away  this  raiment  no  longer  in  fashion ;  be  once  more  as  in 
the  days  of  old  ! — Nay,  thou  art  dead,  and  by  thine  own  deed  ! ' 

"Is  not  this  thy  story?"  I  concluded  with,  "Decrepit, 
toothless,  shivering  crone,  now  forgotten,  going  thy  ways  with- 
out so  much  as  a  glance  from  passers-by  !  Why  art  thou  still 
alive  ?  What  doest  thou  in  that  beggar's  garb,  uncomely  and 
desired  of  none  ?  Where  are  thy  riches  ? — for  what  were  they 
spent  ?  Where  are  thy  treasures  ? — what  great  deeds  hast  thou 
done?" 

At  this  demand,  the  shriveled  woman  raised  her  bony  form, 
18 


274  CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS. 

flung  off  her  rags,  and  grew  tall  and  radiant,  smiling  as  she 
broke  forth  from  the  dark  chrysalis  sheath.  Then,  like  a 
butterfly,  this  diaphanous  creature  emerged,  fair  and  youthful, 
clothed  in  white  linen,  an  Indian  from  creation  issuing  her 
palms.  Her  golden  hair  rippled  over  her  shoulders,  her  eyes 
glowed,  a  bright  mist  clung  about  her,  a  ring  of  gold  hovered 
above  her  head,  she  shook  the  flaming  blade  of  a  sword 
towards  the  spaces  of  heaven. 

"  See  and  believe  !  "  she  cried. 

And  suddenly  I  saw,  afar  off,  many  thousands  of  cathe- 
drals like  the  one  that  I  had  just  quitted ;  but  these  were  covered 
with  pictures  and  with  frescoes,  and  I  heard  them  echo  with 
entrancing  music.  Myriads  of  human  creatures  flocked  to 
these  great  buildings,  swarming  about  them  like  ants  on  an 
ant-heap.  Some  were  eager  to  rescue  books  from  oblivion  or 
to  copy  manuscripts,  others  were  helping  the  poor,  but  nearly 
all  were  studying.  Up  above  this  countless  multitude  rose 
giant  statues  that  they  had  erected  in  their  midst,  and  by  the 
gleams  of  a  strange  light  from  some  luminary  as  powerful  as 
the  sun  I  read  the  inscriptions  on  the  bases  of  the  statues — 
Science,  History,  Literature. 

The  light  died  out.  Again  I  faced  the  young  girl.  Grad- 
ually she  slipped  into  the  dreary  sheath,  into  the  ragged  sear- 
cloths,  and  became  an  aged  woman  again.  Her  familiar 
brought  her  a  little  dust,  and  she  stirred  it  into  the  ashes  of 
her  chafing-dish,  for  the  weather  was  cold  and  stormy;  and 
then  he  lighted  for  her,  whose  palaces  had  been  lit  with  thou- 
sands of  wax-tapers,  a  little  cresset,  that  she  might  see  to  read 
her  prayers  through  the  hours  of  night. 

"  There  is  no  faith  left  in  the  earth !  "  she  said. 

In  such  a  perilous  plight  did  I  behold  the  fairest  and  the 
greatest,  the  truest  and  most  life-giving  of  all  powers. 

"  Wake  up,  sir,  the  doors  are  just  about  to  be  shut,"  said  a 
hoarse  voice.  I  turned  and  beheld  the  beadle's  ugly  counte- 


CHRIST  IN  FLANDERS. 


275 


nance ;  the  man  was  shaking  me  by  the  arm,  and  the  cathedral 
lay  wrapped  in  shadows  as  a  man  is  wrapped  in  his  cloak. 

"  Belief,"  I  said  to  myself,  "  is  life  !     I  have  just  witnessed 
the  funeral  of  a  monarchy,  now  we  must  defend  the  church. ' ' 

PARIS,  February,  1831. 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

(Mclmoth  reconcilie.} 

To  Monsieur  le  General  Baron  de  Pommereul,  a 
token  of  the  friendship  between  our  fathers,  which 
survives  in  their  sons. 

DE  BALZAC. 

THERE  is  a  special  variety  of  human  nature  obtained  in  the 
social  kingdom  by  a  process  analogous  to  that  of  the  gardener's 
craft  in  the  vegetable  kingdom,  to  wit,  by  the  forcing-house — 
a  species  of  hybrid  which  can  be  raised  neither  from  seed  nor 
from  slips.  This  product  is  known  as  the  cashier,  an  anthro- 
pomorphous growth,  watered  by  religious  doctrine,  trained  up 
in  the  fear  of  the  guillotine,  pruned  by  vice,  to  flourish  on  a 
third  floor  with  an  estimable  wife  by  his  side  and  an  uninter- 
esting family.  The  number  of  cashiers  in  Paris  must  always 
be  a  problem  for  the  physiologist.  Has  any  one  as  yet  been 
able  to  state  correctly  the  terms  of  the  proportion  sum  wherein 
the  cashier  figures  as  the  unknown  x  ?  Where  will  you  find 
the  man  who  shall  live  with  wealth,  like  a  cat  with  a  caged 
mouse  ?  This  man,  for  further  qualification,  shall  be  capable 
of  sitting  boxed  in  behind  an  iron  grating  for  seven  or  eight 
hours  a  day  during  seven-eighths  of  the  year,  perched  upon  a 
cane-seated  chair  in  a  space  as  narrow  as  a  lieutenant's  cabin 
on  board  a  man-of-war.  Such  a  man  must  be  able  to  defy 
anchylosis  of  the  knee  and  thigh  joints  ;  he  must  have  a  soul 
above  meanness,  in  order  to  live  meanly ;  must  lose  all  relish 
for  money  by  dint  of  handling  it.  Demand  this  peculiar 
specimen  of  any  creed,  educational  system,  school,  or  institu- 
tion you  please,  and  select  Paris,  that  city  of  fiery  ordeals  and 
branch  establishment  of  hell,  as  the  soil  in  which  to  plant  the 
(276) 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  277 

said  cashier.  So  be  it.  Creeds,  schools,  institutions,  and 
moral  systems,  all  human  rules  and  regulations,  great  and 
small,  will,  one  after  another,  present  much  the  same  face 
that  an  intimate  friend  turns  upon  you  when  you  ask  him  to 
lend  you  a  thousand  francs.  With  a  dolorous  dropping  of  the 
jaw,  they  indicate  the  guillotine,  much  as  your  friend  afore- 
said will  furnish  you  with  the  address  of  the  money-lender, 
pointing  you  to  one  of  the  hundred  gates  by  which  a  man 
comes  to  the  last  refuge  of  the  destitute. 

Yet  nature  has  her  freaks  in  the  making  of  a  man's  mind ; 
she  indulges  herself  and  makes  a  few  honest  folk  now  and 
again,  and  now  and  then  a  cashier. 

Wherefore,  that  race  of  corsairs  whom  we  dignify  with 
the  title  of  bankers,  the  gentry  who  take  out  a  license  for 
which  they  pay  a  thousand  crowns,  as  the  privateer  takes 
out  his  letters  of  marque,  hold  these  rare  products  of  the 
incubations  of  virtue  in  such  esteem  that  they  confine  them 
in  cages  in  their  counting-houses,  much  as  governments  pro- 
cure and  maintain  specimens  of  strange  beasts  at  their  own 
charges. 

If  the  cashier  is  possessed  of  an  imagination  or  of  a  fervid 
temperament;  if,  as  will  sometimes  happen  to  the  most 
complete  cashier,  he  loves  his  wife,  and  that  wife  grows 
tired  of  her  lot,  has  ambitions,  or  merely  some  vanity  in  her 
composition,  the  cashier  is  undone.  Search  the  chronicles 
of  the  counting-house.  You  will  not  find  a  single  instance 
of  a  cashier  attaining  a  position,  as  it  is  called.  They  are 
sent  to  the  hulks ;  they  go  to  foreign  parts ;  they  vegetate 
on  a  second  flcfor  in  the  Rue  Saint-Louis  among  the  market 
gardens  of  the  Marais.  Some  day,  when  the  cashiers  of 
Paris  come  to  a  sense  of  their  real  value,  a  cashier  will 
be  hardly  obtainable  for  money.  Still,  certain  it  is  that 
there  are  people  who  are  fit  for  nothing  but  to  be  cashiers, 
just  as  the  bent  of  a  certain  order  of  mind  inevitably  makes 
for  rascality.  But,  oh  marvel  of  our  civilization  !  Society 


278  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

rewards  virtue  with  an  income  of  a  hundred  louis  in  old 
age,  a  dwelling  on  a  second  floor,  bread  sufficient,  occa- 
sional new  bandana  handkerchiefs,  an  elderly  wife  and  her 
offspring. 

So  much  for  virtue.  But  for  the  opposite  course,  a  little 
boldness,  a  faculty  for  keeping  on  the  windward  side  of  the 
law,  as  Turenne  outflanked  Mont6cuculli,  and  society  will 
sanction  the  theft  of  millions,  shower  ribands  upon  the 
thief,  cram  him  with  honors,  and  smother  him  with  consid- 
eration. 

Government,  moreover,  works  harmoniously  with  this  pro- 
foundly illogical  reasoner — society.  Government  levies  a 
conscription  on  the  young  intelligence  of  the  kingdom  at  the 
age  of  seventeen  or  eighteen,  a  conscription  of  precocious 
power.  Great  ability  is  prematurely  exhausted  by  excessive 
brain-work  before  it  is  sent  up  to  be  submitted  to  a  process  of 
selection.  Nurserymen  sort  and  select  seeds  in  much  the  same 
way.  To  this  process  the  government  brings  professional 
appraisers  of  talent,  men  who  can  assay  brains  as  experts  assay 
gold  at  the  Mint.  Five  hundred  such  heads,  set  afire  with 
hope,  are  sent  up  annually  by  the  most  progressive  portion  of 
the  population  ;  and  of  these  the  government  takes  one-third, 
puts  them  in  sacks  called  the  Ecoles,  and  shakes  them  up 
together  for  three  years.  Though  every  one  of  these  young 
plants  represents  vast  productive  power,  they  are  made,  as  one 
may  say,  into  cashiers.  They  receive  appointments  ;  the  rank 
and  file  of  engineers  is  made  up  of  them ;  they  are  employed 
as  captains  of  artillery  ;  there  is  no  (subaltern)  grade  to  which 
they  may  not  aspire.  Finally,  when  these  men,  the  pick  of 
the  youth  of  the  nation,  fattened  on  mathematics  and  stuffed 
with  knowledge,  have  attained  the  age  of  fifty  years,  they 
have  their  reward,  and  receive  as  the  price  of  their  services 
the  third-floor  lodging,  the  wife  and  family,  and  all  the  com- 
forts that  sweeten  life  for  mediocrity.  If  from  among  this 
race  of  dupes  there  should  escape  some  five  or  six  men  of 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  279 

genius,  who  climb  the  highest  heights,  is  it  not  very  miracu- 
lous? 

This  is  an  exact  statement  of  the  relations  between  talent 
and  probity  on  the  one  hand,  and  government  and  society  on 
the  other,  in  an  age  that  considers  itself  to  be  progressive. 
Without  this  prefatory  explanation  a  recent  occurrence  in 
Paris  would  seem  improbable ;  but  preceded  by  this  summing 
up  of  the  situation,  it  will  perhaps  receive  some  thoughtful 
attention  from  minds  capable  of  recognizing  the  real  plague- 
spots  of  our  civilization,  a  civilization  which  since  1815  has 
been  moved  by  the  spirit  of  gain  rather  than  by  principles  of 
honor. 

About  five  o'clock,  on  a  dull  autumn  afternoon,  the  cashier 
of  one  of  the  largest  banks  in  Paris  was  still  at  his  desk, 
working  by  the  light  of  a  lamp  that  had  been  lit  for  some 
time.  In  accordance  with  the  use  and  wont  of  commerce, 
the  counting-house  was  in  the  darkest  corner  of  the  low-ceiled 
and  far  from  spacious  mezzanine  floor,  and  at  the  very  end  of 
a  passage  lighted  only  by  borrowed  lights.  The  office  doors 
along  this  corridor,  each  with  its  label,  gave  the  place  the 
look  of  a  bath-house.  At  four  o'clock  the  stolid  porter  had 
proclaimed,  according  to  his  orders,  "  The  bank  is  closed." 
And  by  this  time  the  departments  were  deserted,  the  letters 
dispatched,  the  clerks  had  taken  their  leave.  The  wives  of 
the  partners  in  the  firm  were  expecting  their  lovers ;  the  two 
bankers  dining  with  their  mistresses.  Everything  was  in 
order. 

The  place  where  the  strong  boxes  had  been  bedded  in 
sheet-iron  was  just  behind  the  little  sanctum,  where  the 
cashier  was  busy.  Doubtless  he  was  balancing  his  books.  The 
open  front  gave  a  glimpse  of  a  safe  of  hammered  iron,  so 
enormously  heavy  (thanks  to  the  science  of  the  modern  in- 
ventor) that  burglars  could  not  carry  it  away.  The  door  only 
opened  at  the  pleasure  of  those  who  knew  its  password.  The 


280  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

letter-lock  was  a  warden  who  kept  its  own  secret  and  could 
not  be  bribed ;  the  mysterious  word  was  an  ingenious  real- 
ization of  the  "open  sesame  "  in  the  "Arabian  Nights." 
But  even  this  was  as  nothing.  A  man  might  discover  the 
password ;  but  unless  he  knew  the  lock's  final  secret,  the 
ultima  ratio  of  this  gold-guarding  dragon  of  mechanical  sci- 
ence, it  discharged  a  blunderbuss  at  his  head. 

The  door  of  the  room,  the  walls  of  the  room,  the  shutters 
of  the  windows  in  the  room,  the  whole  place,  in  fact,  was 
lined  with  sheet-iron  a  third  of  an  inch  in  thickness,  con- 
cealed behind  the  thin  wooden  paneling.  The  shutters  had 
been  closed,  the  door  had  been  shut.  If  ever  man  could  feel 
confident  that  he  was  absolutely  alone,  and  that  there  was  no 
remote  possibility  of  being  watched  by  prying  eyes,  that  man 
was  the  cashier  of  the  house  of  Nucingen  and  Company,  in  the 
Rue  Saint-Lazare. 

Accordingly  the  deepest  silence  prevailed  in  that  iron  cage. 
The  fire  had  died  out  in  the  stove,  but  the  room  was  full  of 
that  tepid  warmth  which  produces  the  dull  heavy-headedness 
and  nauseous  queasiness  of  a  morning  after  an  orgy.  The 
stove  is  a  mesmerist  that  plays  no  small  part  in  the  reduction 
of  bank  clerks  and  porters  to  a  state  of  idiocy. 

A  room  with  a  stove  in  it  is  a  retort  in  which  the  power  of 
strong  men  is  evaporated ;  where  their  vitality  is  exhausted, 
and  their  wills  enfeebled.  Government  offices  are  part  of  a 
great  scheme  for  the  manufacture  of  the  mediocrity  necessary 
for  the  maintenance  of  a  feudal  system  on  a  pecuniary  basis — 
and  money  is  the  foundation  of  the  social  contract.  (See 
Les  Employ  &s.~)  The  mephitic  vapors  in  the  atmosphere  of  a 
crowded  room  contribute  in  no  small  degree  to  bring  about  a 
gradual  deterioration  of  intelligences,  the  brain  that  gives  off 
the  largest  quantity  of  nitrogen  asphyxiates  the  others,  in  the 
long  run. 

The  cashier  was  a  man  of  five-and-forty  or  thereabouts.  As 
he  sat  at  the  table,  the  light  from  a  moderator  lamp  shining 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  281 

full  on  his  bald  head  and  glistening  fringe  of  iron-gray  hair 
that  surrounded  it — this  baldness  and  the  round  outlines  of 
his  face  made  his  head  look  very  like  a  ball.  His  complexion 
was  brick-red,  a  few  wrinkles  had  gathered  about  his  eyes,  but 
he  had  the  smooth,  plump  hands  of  a  stout  man.  His  blue 
cloth  coat,  a  little  rubbed  and  worn,  and  the  creases  and 
shininess  of  his  trousers,  traces  of  hard  wear  that  the  clothes- 
brush  fails  to  remove,  would  impress  a  superficial  observer 
with  the  idea  that  here  was  a  thrifty  and  upright  human  being, 
sufficient  of  the  philosopher  or  of  the  aristocrat  to  wear 
shabby  clothes.  But,  unluckily,  it  is  easy  to  find  penny-wise 
people  who  will  prove  weak,  wasteful,  or  incompetent  in  the 
capital  things  of  life. 

The  cashier  wore  the  ribbon  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  at  his 
button-hole,  for  he  had  been  a  major  of  dragoons  in  the  time 
of  the  Emperor.  M.  de  Nucingen,  who  had  been  a  contrac- 
tor before  he  became  a  banker,  had  had  reason  in  those  days 
to  know  the  honorable  disposition  of  his  cashier,  who  then 
occupied  a  high  position.  Reverses  of  fortune  had  befallen 
the  major,  and  the  banker  out  of  regard  for  him  paid  him 
five  hundred  francs  a  month.  The  soldier  had  become  a 
cashier  in  the  year  1813,  after  his  recovery  from  a  wound  re- 
ceived at  Studzianka  during  the  retreat  from  Moscow,  fol- 
lowed by  six  months  of  enforced  idleness  at  Strasbourg,  whither 
several  officers  had  been  transported  by  order  of  the  Emperor, 
that  they  might  receive  skilled  attention.  This  particular 
officer,  Castanier  by  name,  retired  with  the  honorary  grade 
of  colonel,  and  a  pension  of  two  thousand  four  hundred 
francs. 

In  ten  years'  time  the  cashier  had  completely  effaced  the 
soldier,  and  Castanier  inspired  the  banker  with  such  trust  in 
him  that  he  was  associated  in  the  transactions  that  went  on 
in  the  private  office  behind  his  little  counting-house.  The 
Baron  himself  had  access  to  it  by  means  of  a  secret  staircase. 
There,  matters  of  business  were  decided.  It  was  the  bolting- 


282  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

room  where  proposals  were  sifted ;  the  privy  council  chamber 
where  the  reports  of  the  money  market  were  analyzed  ;  cir- 
cular notes  issued  thence ;  and,  finally,  the  private  ledger  and 
the  journal  which  summarized  the  work  of  all  the  departments 
were  kept  there. 

Castanier  had  gone  himself  to  shut  the  door  which  opened 
on  to  a  staircase  that  led  to  the  parlor  occupied  by  the  two 
bankers  on  the  first  floor  of  their  hotel.  This  done,  he  had 
sat  down  at  his  desk  again,  and  for  a  moment  he  gazed  at  a 
little  collection  of  letters  of  credit  drawn  on  the  firm  of 
Watschildine,  of  London.  Then  he  had  taken  up  the  pen 
and  imitated  the  banker's  signature  upon  each.  Nucingen  he 
wrote,  and  eyed  the  forged  signatures  critically  to  see  which 
seemed  the  most  perfect  copy. 

Suddenly  he  looked  up  as  if  a  needle  had  pricked  him. 
"You  are  not  alone  !  "  a  boding  voice  seemed  to  cry  in  his 
heart ;  and  indeed  the  forger  saw  a  man  standing  at  the  little 
grated  window  of  the  counting-house,  a  man  whose  breathing 
was  so  noiseless  that  he  did  not  seem  to  breathe  at  all.  Cas- 
tanier looked,  and  saw  that  the  door  at  the  end  of  the  passage 
was  wide  open  ;  the  stranger  must  have  entered  by  that  way. 

For  the  first  time  in  his  life  the  old  soldier  felt  a  sensation 
of  dread  that  made  him  stare  open-mouthed  and  wide-eyed  at 
the  man  before  him ;  and  for  that  matter,  the  appearance  of 
the  apparition  was  sufficiently  alarming  even  if  unaccompanied 
by  the  mysterious  circumstances  of  so  sudden  an  entry.  The 
rounded  forehead,  the  harsh  coloring  of  the  long  oval  face, 
indicated  quite  as  plainly  as  the  cut  of  his  clothes  that  the 
man  was  an  Englishman,  reeking  of  his  native  isles.  You  had 
only  to  look  at  the  collar  of  his  overcoat,  at  the  voluminous 
cravat  which  smothered  the  crushed  frills  of  a  shirt  front  so 
white  that  it  brought  out  the  changeless  leaden  hue  of  an  im- 
passive face,  and  the  thin  red  line  of  the  lips  that  seemed 
made  to  suck  the  blood  of  corpses ;  and  you  could  guess  at 
once  at  the  black  gaiters  buttoned  up  to  the  knee,  and  the  half- 


THE    FORCER     SAW    A    MAN     STANDING    AT    THE     LITTLE 
CRATED    WINDOW. 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  283 

puritanical  costume  of  a  wealthy  Englishman  dressed  for  a 
walking  excursion.  The  intolerable  glitter  of  the  stranger's 
eyes  produced  a  vivid  and  unpleasant  impression,  which  was 
only  deepened  by  the  rigid  outlines  of  his  features.  Ttfe 
dried-up,  emaciated  creature  seemed  to  carry  within  him 
some  gnawing  thought  that  consumed  him  and  could  not  be 
appeased. 

He  must  have  digested  his  food  so  rapidly  that  he  could 
doubtless  eat  continually  without  bringing  any  trace  of  color 
into  his  face  or  features.  A  tun  of  Tokay  vin  de  succession 
would  not  have  caused  any  faltering  in  that  piercing  glance 
that  read  men's  inmost  thoughts,  nor  dethroned  the  merciless 
reasoning  faculty  that  always  seemed  to  go  to  the  bottom  of 
things.  There  was  something  of  the  fell  and  tranquil  majesty 
of  a  tiger  about  him. 

"  I  have  come  to  cash  this  bill  of  exchange,  sir,"  he  said. 
Castanier  felt  the  tones  of  his  voice  thrill  through  every  nerve 
with  a  violent  shock  similar  to  that  given  by  a  discharge  of 
electricity. 

"The  safe  is  closed,"  said  Castanier,  in  the  sententious 
tone  so  usual  with  bank  officials. 

"  It  is  open,"  said  the  Englishman,  looking  round  the 
counting-house.  "  To-morrow  will  be  Sunday,  and  I  cannot 
wait.  The  amount  is  for  five  hundred  thousand  francs.  You 
have  the  money  there,  and  I  must  have  it." 

"But  how  did  you  come  in,  sir?" 

The  Englishman  smiled.  That  smile  frightened  Castanier. 
No  words  could  have  replied  more  fully  nor  more  peremptorily 
than  that  scornful  and  imperial  curl  of  the  stranger's  lips. 
Castanier  turned  away,  took  up  fifty  packets,  each  containing 
ten  thousand  francs  in  bank-notes,  and  held  them  out  to  the 
stranger,  receiving  in  exchange  for  them  a  bill  accepted  by 
the  Baron  de  Nucingen.  A  sort  of  convulsive  tremor  ran 
through  him  as  he  saw  a  red  gleam  in  the  stranger's  eyes 
when  they  fell  on  the  forged  signature  on  the  letter  of  credit. 


284  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

"It  wants  your  signature,"  stammered  Castanier,  handing 
back  the  bill. 

"  Hand  me  your  pen,"  answered  the  Englishman. 

Castanier  handed  him  the  pen  with  which  he  had  just  com- 
mitted forgery.  The  stranger  wrote  John  Melmoth,  then  he 
returned  the  slip  of  paper  and  the  pen  to  the  cashier.  Cas- 
tanier looked  at  the  handwriting,  noticing  that  it  sloped  from 
right  to  left  in  the  Eastern  fashion,  and  Melmoth  disappeared  so 
noiselessly  that  when  Castanier  looked  up  again  an  exclamation 
broke  from  him,  partly  because  the  man  was  no  longer  there, 
partly  because  he  felt  a  strange  painful  sensation  such  as  our 
imagination  might  take  for  an  effect  of  poison. 

The  pen  that  Melmoth  had  handled  sent  the  same  sickening 
heat  through  him  that  an  emetic  produces.  But  it  seemed 
impossible  to  Castanier  that  the  Englishman  should  have 
guessed  his  crime.  His  inward  qualms  he  attributed  to  the 
palpitation  of  the  heart  that,  according  to  received  ideas,  was 
sure  to  follow  at  once  on  such  a  "  turn  "  as  the  stranger  had 
given  him. 

"  The  devil  take  it ;  I  am  very  stupid.  Providence  is 
watching  over  me ;  for  if  that  brute  had  come  round  to  see 
my  gentleman  to-morrow,  my  goose  would  have  been  cooked  ! " 
said  Castanier,  and  he  burned  the  unsuccessful  attempts  at 
forgery  in  the  stove. 

He  put  the  bill  that  he  meant  to  take  with  him  in  an  en- 
velope, and  helped  himself  to  five  hundred  thousand  francs 
in  French  and  English  bank-notes  from  the  safe,  which  he 
locked.  Then  he  put  everything  in  order,  lit  a  candle,  blew 
out  the  lamp,  took  up  his  hat  and  umbrella,  and  went  out 
sedately,  as  usual,  to  leave  one  of  the  two  keys  of  the  strong 
room  with  Madame  de  Nucingen,  in  the  absence  of  her  hus- 
band the  Baron. 

"  You  are  in  luck,  M.  Castanier,"  said  the  banker's  wife  as 
he  entered  her  room  ;  "we  have  a  holiday  on  Monday;  you 
can  go  into  the  country,  or  to  Soizy." 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  285 

"  Madame,  will  you  be  so  good  as  to  tell  your  husband  that 
the  bill  of  exchange  on  Watschildine,  which  was  behind  time, 
has  just  been  presented  ?  The  five  hundred  thousand  ftancs 
have  been  paid;  so  I  shall  not  come  back  till  noon  on 
Tuesday." 

"Good-bye,  monsieur;  I  hope  you  will  have  a  pleasant 
time." 

"  The  same  to  you,  madame,"  replied  the  old  dragoon  as 
he  went  out.  He  glanced  as  he  spoke  at  a  young  man  well 
known  in  fashionable  society  at  that  time,  a  M.  de  Rastignac, 
who  was  regarded  as  Madame  de  Nucingen's  lover. 

"Madame,"  remarked  this  latter,  "the  old  boy  looks  to 
me  as  if  he  meant  to  play  you  some  ill  turn." 

"  Pshaw  !  impossible;  he  is  too  stupid." 

"  Piquoizeau,"  said  the  cashier,  walking  into  the  porter's 
room,  "  what  made  you  let  anybody  come  up  after  four 
o'clock?" 

"I  have  been  smoking  a  pipe  here  in  the  doorway  ever 
since  four  o'clock,"  said  the  man,  "and  nobody  has  gone 
into  the  bank.  Nobody  has  come  out  either  except  the 
gentlemen " 

"  Are  you  quite  sure? " 

"Yes,  upon  my  word  and  honor.  Stay,  though,  at  four 
o'clock  M.  Werbrust's  friend  came,  a  young  fellow  from 
Messrs,  du  Tillet  &  Co.,  in  the  Rue  Joubert." 

"All  right,"  said  Castanier,  and  he  hurried  away. 

The  sickening  sensation  of  heat  that  he  had  felt  when  he 
took  back  the  pen  returned  in  greater  intensity.  "  Mille 
diables  /"  thought  he,  as  he  threaded  his  way  along  the 
Boulevard  de  Gand,  "haven't  I  taken  proper  precautions? 
Let  me  think  !  Two  clear  days,  Sunday  and  Monday,  then  a 
day  of  uncertainty  before  they  begin  to  look  for  me,  alto- 
gether, three  days  and  four  nights'  respite.  I  have  a  couple 
of  passports  and  two  different  disguises;  is  not  that  enough  to 


286  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

throw  the  cleverest  detective  off  the  scent  ?  On  Tuesday 
morning  I  shall  draw  a  million  francs  in  London  before  the 
slightest  suspicion  has  been  aroused.  My  debts  I  am  leaving 
behind  for  the  benefit  of  my  creditors,  who  will  put  a  '  P '  * 
on  the  bills,  and  I  shall  live  comfortably  in  Italy  for  the  rest 
of  my  days  as  the  Count  Ferraro.  I  was  alone  with  him 
when  he  died,  poor  fellow,  in  the  marsh  of  Zembin,  and  I 
shall  slip  into  his  skin.  Mille  diables  /  the  woman  who  is  to 
follow  after  me  might  give  them  a  clue  !  Think  of  an  old 
campaigner  like  me  infatuated  enough  to  tie  myself  to  a  petti- 
coat tail !  Why  take  her  ?  I  must  leave  her  behind.  Yes,  I 
could  make  up  my  mind  to  it ;  but — I  know  myself — I  should 
be  ass  enough  to  go  back  for  her.  Still,  nobody  knows 
Aquilina.  Shall  I  take  her  or  leave  her?" 

"You  will  not  take  her!"  cried  a  voice  that  filled  Cas- 
tanier  with  sickening  dread.  He  turned  sharply,  and  saw 
the  Englishman. 

"The  devil  is  in  it !"  cried  the  cashier  aloud. 

Melmoth  had  passed  his  victim  by  this  time ;  and  if  Cas- 
tanier's  first  impulse  had  been  to  fasten  a  quarrel  on  a  man 
who  read  his  own  thoughts,  he  was  so  much  torn  by  opposing 
feelings  that  the  immediate  result  was  a  temporary  paralysis. 
When  he  resumed  his  walk  he  fell  once  more  into  that  fever 
of  irresolution  which  besets  those  who  are  so  carried  away  by 
passion  that  they  are  ready  to  commit  a  crime,  but  have  not 
sufficient  strength  of  character  to  keep  it  to  themselves  with- 
out suffering  terribly  in  the  process.  So,  although  Castanier 
had  made  up  his  mind  to  reap  the  fruits  of  a  crime  which  was 
already  half  executed,  he  hesitated  to  carry  out  his  designs. 
For  him,  as  for  many  men  of  mixed  character  in  whom  weak- 
ness and  strength  are  equally  blended,  the  least  trifling  con- 
sideration determines  whether  they  shall  continue  to  lead 
blameless  lives  or  become  actively  criminal.  In  the  vast 
masses  of  men  enrolled  in  Napoleon's  armies  there  were  many 
*  Protested. 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  287 

who,  like  Castanier,  possessed  the  purely  physical  courage 
demanded  on  the  battlefield,  yet  lacked  the  moral  courage 
which  makes  a  man  as  great  in  crime  as  he  could  have  be'en 
in  virtue. 

The  letter  of  credit  was  drafted  in  such  terms  that  imme- 
diately on  his  arrival  he  might  draw  twenty-five  thousand 
pounds  on  the  firm  of  Watschildine,  the  London  correspond- 
ents of  the  house  of  Nucingen.  The  London  house  had  been 
i  already  advised  of  the  draft  about  to  be  made  upon  them ; 
he  had  written  to  them  himself.  He  had  instructed  an  agent 
(chosen  at  random)  to  take  his  passage  in  a  vessel  which  was 
to  leave  Portsmouth  with  a  wealthy  English  family  on  board, 
who  were  going  to  Italy,  and  the  passage-money  had  been 
paid  in  the  name  of  the  Count  Ferraro.  The  smallest  details 
of  the  scheme  had  been  thought  out.  He  had  arranged  mat- 
ters so  as  to  divert  the  search  that  would  be  made  for  him 
into  Belgium  and  Switzerland,  while  he  himself  was  at  sea  in 
the  English  vessel.  Then,  by  the  time  that  Nucingen  might 
flatter  himself  that  he  was  on  the  track  of  his  late  cashier,  the 
said  cashier,  as  the  Count  Ferraro,  hoped  to  be  safe  in  Naples. 
He  had  determined  to  disfigure  his  face  in  order  to  disguise 
himself  the  more  completely,  and  by  means  of  an  acid 
to  imitate  the  scars  of  smallpox.  Yet,  in  spite  of  all 
these  precautions,  which  surely  seemed  as  if  they  must 
secure  him  complete  immunity,  his  conscience  tormented 
him ;  he  was  afraid.  The  even  and  peaceful  life  that  he  had 
led  for  so  long  had  modified  the  morality  of  the  camp.  His 
life  was  stainless  as  yet ;  he  could  not  sully  it  without  a  pang. 
So  for  the  last  time  he  abandoned  himself  to  all  the  influences 
of  the  better  self  that  strenuously  resisted. 

"Pshaw  !  "  he  said  at  last,  at  the  corner  of  the  Boulevard 
and  the  Rue  Montmartre,  "  I  will  take  a  cab  after  the  play 
this  evening  and  go  out  to  Versailles.  A  postchaise  will  be 
ready  for  me  at  my  old  quartermaster's  place.  He  would 
keep  my  secret  even  if  a  dozen  men  were  standing  ready  to 


288  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

shoot  him  down.  The  chances  are  all  in  my  favor,  so  far  as 
I  can  see ;  so  I  shall  take  my  little  Naqui  with  me,  and  I 
will  go." 

"  You  will  not  go!"  exclaimed  the  Englishman,  and  the 
strange  tones  of  his  voice  drove  all  the  cashier's  blood  back 
to  his  heart. 

Melmoth  stepped  into  a  tilbury  which  was  waiting  for  him, 
and  was  whirled  away  so  quickly  that  when  Castanier  looked 
up  he  saw  his  foe  some  hundred  paces  away  from  him,  and 
before  it  even  crossed  his  mind  to  cut  off  the  man's  retreat 
the  tilbury  was  far  on  its  way  up  the  Boulevard  Montmartre. 

"Well,  upon  my  word,  there  is  something  supernatural 
about  this  !  "  said  he  to  himself.  "  If  I  were  fool  enough  to 
believe  in  God,  I  should  think  that  He  had  set  Saint  Michael 
on  my  tracks.  Suppose  that  the  devil  and  the  police  should 
let  me  go  on  as  I  please,  so  as  to  nab  me  in  the  nick  of  time  ? 
Did  any  one  ever  see  the  like  !  But  there,  this  is  folly " 

Castanier  went  along  the  Rue  du  Faubourg-Montmartre, 
slackening  his  pace  as  he  neared  the  Rue  Richer.  There,  on 
the  second  floor  of  a  block  of  buildings  which  looked  out 
upon  some  gardens,  lived  the  unconscious  cause  of  Castanier's 
crime — a  young  woman  known  in  the  quarter  as  Mme.  de  la 
Garde.  A  concise  history  of  certain  events  in  the  cashier's 
past  life  must  be  given  in  order  to  explain  these  facts,  and  to 
give  a  complete  presentment  of  the  crisis  when  he  yielded  to 
temptation. 

Mme.  de  la  Garde  said  that  she  was  a  Piedmontese.  No 
one,  not  even  Castanier,  knew  her  real  name.  She  was  one 
of  those  young  girls  who  are  driven  by  dire  misery,  by  in- 
ability to  earn  a  living,  or  by  fear  of  starvation,  to  have 
recourse  to  a  trade  which  most  of  them  loathe,  many  regard 
with  indifference,  and  some  few  follow  in  obedience  to  the 
laws  of  their  constitution.  But  on  the  brink  of  the  gulf  of 
prostitution  in  Paris,  the  young  girl  of  sixteen,  beautiful  and 
pure  as  the  Madonna,  had  met  with  Castanier.  The  old 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  289 

dragoon  was  too  rough  and  homely  to  make  his  way  in 
society,  and  he  was  tired  of  tramping  the  boulevard  at  night 
and  of  the  kind  of  conquests  made  there  by  gold.  For  some 
time  past  he  had  desired  to  bring  a  certain  regularity  into  an 
irregular  life.  He  was  struck  by  the  beauty  of  the  poor  child 
who  had  drifted  by  chance  into  his  arms,  and  his  determina- 
tion to  rescue  her  from  the  life  of  the  streets  was  half-benev- 
olent, half-selfish,  as  some  of  the  thoughts  of  the  best  of  men 
are  apt  to  be.  Social  conditions  mingle  elements  of  evil 
with  the  promptings  of  natural  goodness  of  heart,  and  the 
mixture  of  motives  underlying  a  man's  intentions  should  be 
leniently  judged.  Castanier  had  just  cleverness  enough  to  be 
very  shrewd  where  his  own  interests  were  concerned.  So  he 
concluded  to  be  a  philanthropist  on  either  count,  and  at  first 
made  her  his  mistress. 

"  Hey  !  hey  !  "  he  said  to  himself,  in  his  soldierly  fashion, 
"  I  am  an  old  wolf,  and  a  sheep  shall  not  make  a  fool  of  me. 
Castanier,  old  man,  before  you  set  up  housekeeping,  recon- 
noitre the  girl's  character  for  a  bit,  and  see  if  she  is  a  steady 
sort." 

This  irregular  union  gave  the  Piedmontese  a  status  the  most 
nearly  approaching  respectability  among  those  which  the  world 
declines  to  recognize.  During  the  first  year  she  took  the  nom 
de  guerre  of  Aquilina,  one  of  the  characters  in  Venice  Pre- 
served, which  she  had  chanced  to  read.  She  fancied  that  she 
resembled  the  courtesan  in  face  and  general  appearance,  and 
in  a  certain  precocity  of  heart  and  brain  of  which  she  was 
conscious.  When  Castanier  found  that  her  life  was  as  well 
regulated  and  virtuous  as  was  possible  for  a  social  outlaw,  he 
manifested  a  desire  that  they  should  live  as  husband  and  wife. 
So  she  took  the  name  of  Mme.  de  la  Garde,  in  order  to 
approach,  as  closely  as  Parisian  usages  permit,  the  conditions 
of  a  real  marriage.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  many  of  these 
unfortunate  girls  have  one  fixed  idea,  to  be  looked  upon  as 
respectable  middle-class  women,  who  lead  humdrum  lives  of 
19 


290  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

faithfulness  to  their  husbands  ;  women  who  would  make  excel- 
lent mothers,  keepers  of  household  accounts,  and  menders  of 
household  linen.  This  longing  springs  from  a  sentiment  so 
laudable  that  society  should  take  it  into  consideration.  But 
society,  incorrigible  as  ever,  will  assuredly  persist  in  regarding 
the  married  woman  as  a  corvette  duly  authorized  by  her  flag 
and  papers  to  go  on  her  own  course,  while  the  woman  who  is 
a  wife  in  all  but  name  is  a  pirate  and  an  outlaw  for  lack  of  a 
document.  A  day  came  when  Mme.  de  la  Garde  would  fain 
have  signed  herself  "  Mme.  Castanier."  The  cashier  was  put 
out  by  this. 

"So  you  do  not  love  me  well  enough  to  marry  me?" 
she  said. 

Castanier  did  not  answer ;  he  was  absorbed  by  his  thoughts. 
The  poor  girl  resigned  herself  to  her  fate.  The  ex-dragoon 
was  in  despair.  Naqui's  heart  softened  towards  him  at  the 
sight  of  his  trouble  ;  she  tried  to  soothe  him,  but  what  could 
she  do  when  she  did  not  know  what  ailed  him  ?  When  Naqui 
made  up  her  mind  to  know  the  secret,  although  she  never  asked 
him  a  question,  the  cashier  dolefully  confessed  to  the  exist- 
ence of  a  Mme.  Castanier.  This  lawful  wife,  a  thousand 
times  accursed,  was  living  in  a  humble  way  in  Strasbourg  on 
a  small  property  there  ;  he  wrote  to  her  twice  a  year,  and  kept 
the  secret  of  her  existence  so  well  that  no  one  suspected  that 
he  was  married.  The  reason  of  this  reticence?  If  it  is  famil- 
iar to  many  military  men  who  may  chance  to  be  in  a  like 
predicament,  it  is  perhaps  worth  while  to  give  the  story. 

Your  genuine  trooper  (if  it  is  allowable  here  to  employ  the 
word  which  in  the  army  signifies  a  man  who  is  destined  to  die 
as  a  captain)  is  a  sort  of  serf,  a  part  and  parcel  of  his  regi- 
ment, an  essentially  simple  creature,  and  Castanier  was 
marked  out  by  nature  as  a  victim  to  the  wiles  of  mothers  with 
grown-up  daughters  left  too  long  on  their  hands.  It  was  at 
Nancy,  during  one  of  those  brief  intervals  of  repose  when 
the  Imperial  armies  were  not  on  active  service  abroad,  that 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  201 

Castanier  was  so  unlucky  as  to  pay  some  attention  to  a  young 
lady  with  whom  he  danced  at  a  ridotto,  the  provincial  name 
for  the  entertainments  often  given  by  the  military  to  tne 
townsfolk,  or  vice  versa,  in  garrison  towns.  A  scheme  for 
inveigling  the  gallant  captain  into  matrimony  was  immediately 
set  on  foot,  one  of  those  schemes  by  which  mothers  secure 
accomplices  in  a  human  heart  by  touching  all  its  motive 
springs,  while  they  convert  all  their  friends  into  fellow-con- 
spirators. 

Like  all  people  possessed  by  one  idea,  these  ladies  press 
everything  into  the  service  of  their  great  project,  slowly 
elaborating  their  toils,  much  as  the  ant-lion  excavates  its 
funnel  in  the  sand  and  lies  in  wait  at  the  bottom  for  its 
victim.  Suppose  that  no  one  strays,  after  all,  into  that  care- 
fully constructed  labyrinth  ?  Suppose  that  the  ant-lion  dies 
of  hunger  and  thirst  in  her  pit  ?  Such  things  may  be,  but  if 
any  heedless  creature  once  enters  in,  it  never  comes  out.  All 
the  wires  which  could  be  pulled  to  induce  action  on  the 
captain's  part  were  tried ;  appeals  were  made  to  the'  secret 
interested  motives  that  always  come  into  play  in  such  cases  ; 
they  worked  on  Castanier's  hopes  and  on  the  weaknesses  and 
vanity  of  human  nature.  Unluckily,  he  had  praised  the 
daughter  to  her  mother  when  he  brought  her  back  after  a 
waltz,  a  little  chat  followed,  and  then  an  invitation  in  the 
most  natural  way  in  the  world.  Once  introduced  into  the 
house,  the  dragoon  was  dazzled  by  the  hospitality  of  a  family 
who  appeared  to  conceal  their  real  wealth  beneath  a  show  of 
careful  economy.  He  was  skilfully  flattered  on  all  sides,  and 
every  one  extolled  for  his  benefit  the  various  treasures  there 
displayed.  A  neatly-timed  dinner,  served  on  plate  loaned  by 
an  uncle,  the  attention  shown  to  him  by  the  only  daughter  of 
the  house,  the  gossip  of  the  town,  a  well-to-do  sub-lieutenant 
who  seemed  likely  to  cut  the  ground  from  under  his  feet — all 
the  innumerable  snares,  in  short,  of  the  provincial  ant-lion 
were  set  for  him,  and  to  such  good  purpose,  that  Castanier 


292  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

said  five  years  later,  "To  this  day  I  do  not  know  how  it 
came  about !  " 

The  dragoon  received  fifteen  thousand  francs  with  the  lady, 
who,  after  two  years  of  marriage,  became  the  ugliest  and  con- 
sequently the  most  peevish  woman  on  earth.  Luckily  they 
had  no  children.  The  fair  complexion  (maintained  by  a 
Spartan  regimen),  the  fresh,  bright  color  in  her  face,  which 
spoke  of  an  engaging  modesty,  became  overspread  with 
blotches  and  pimples ;  her  figure,  which  had  seemed  so 
straight,  grew  crooked,  the  angel  became  a  suspicious  and 
shrewish  creature  who  drove  Castanier  frantic.  Then  the  for- 
fune  took  to  itself  wings.  At  length  the  dragoon,  no  longer 
recognizing  the  woman  whom  he  had  wedded,  left  her  to  live 
on  a  little  property  at  Strasbourg,  until  the  time  when  it 
should  please  God  to  remove  her  to  adorn  paradise.  She 
was  one  of  those  virtuous  women  who,  for  want  of  other 
occupation,  would  weary  the  life  out  of  an  angel  with  com- 
plainings, who  pray  till  (if  their  prayers  are  heard  in  heaven) 
they  must  exhaust  the  patience  of  the  Almighty,  and  say 
everything  that  is  bad  of  their  husbands  in  dove-like  murmurs 
over  a  game  of  boston  with  their  neighbors.  When  Aquilina 
learned  all  these  troubles  she  clung  still  more  affectionately  to 
Castanier,  and  made  him  so  happy,  varying  with  woman's 
ingenuity  the  pleasures  with  which  she  filled  his  life,  that  all 
unwittingly  she  was  the  cause  of  the  cashier's  downfall. 

Like  many  women  who  seem  by  nature  destined  to  sound 
all  the  depths  of  love,  Mme.  de  la  Garde  was  disinterested. 
She  asked  neither  for  gold  nor  for  jewelry,  gave  no  thought 
to  the  future,  lived  entirely  for  the  present  and  for  the  pleas- 
ures of  the  present.  She  accepted  expensive  ornaments  and 
dresses,  the  carriage  so  eagerly  coveted  by  women  of  her 
class,  as  one  harmony  the  more  in  the  picture  of  life.  There 
was  absolutely  no  vanity  in  her  desire  not  to  appear  at  a  better 
advantage  but  to  look  the  fairer,  and,  moreover,  no  woman 
could  live  without  luxuries  more  cheerfully.  When  a  man  of 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  293 

generous  nature  (and  military  men  are  mostly  of  this  stamp) 
meets  with  such  a  woman,  he  feels  a  sort  of  exasperation  ^ajt 
finding  himself  her  debtor  in  generosity.  He  feels  that  he 
could  stop  a  mail-coach  to  obtain  money  for  her  if  he  has  not 
sufficient  for  her  whims.  He  will  commit  a  crime  if  so  he 
may  be  great  and  noble  in  the  eyes  of  some  woman  or  of  his 
special  public  ;  such  is  the  nature  of  the  man.  Such  a  lover 
is  like  a  gambler  who  would  be  dishonored  in  his  own  eyes  if 
he  did  not  repay  the  sum  he  borrowed  from  a  waiter  in  a 
gaming-house ;  but  will  shrink  from  no  crime,  will  leave  his 
wife  and  children  without  a  penny,  and  rob  and  murder,  if  so 
he  may  come  to  the  gaming  table  with  a  full  purse,  and  his 
honor  remain  untarnished  among  the  frequenters  of  that  fatal 
abode.  So  it  was  with  Castanier. 

He  had  begun  by  installing  Aquilina  in  a  modest  fourth- 
floor  dwelling,  the  furniture  being  of  the  simplest  kind.  But 
when  he  saw  the  girl's  beauty  and  great  qualities,  when  he  had 
known  inexpressible  and  unlooked-for  happiness  with  her,  he 
began  to  dote  upon  her,  and  longed  to  adorn  his  idol.  Then 
Aquilina's  toilet  was  so  comically  out  of  keeping  with  her 
poor  abode,  that  for  both  their  sakes  it  was  clearly  incumbent 
on  him  to  move.  The  change  swallowed  up  almost  all  Casta- 
nier's  savings,  for  he  furnished  his  domestic  paradise  with  all 
the  prodigality  that  is  lavished  on  a  kept  mistress.  A  pretty 
woman  must  have  everything  pretty  about  her ;  the  unity  of 
charm  in  the  woman  and  her  surroundings  singles  her  out 
from  among  her  sex.  This  sentiment  of  homogeneity  indeed, 
though  it  has  frequently  escaped  the  attention  of  observers, 
is  instinctive  in  human  nature ;  and  the  same  prompting  leads 
elderly  spinsters  to  surround  themselves  with  dreary  relics  of 
the  past.  But  the  lovely  Piedmontese  must  have  the  newest 
and  latest  fashions,  and  all  that  was  daintiest  and  prettiest  in 
stuffs  for  hangings,  in  silks  or  jewelry,  in  fine  china  and  other 
brittle  and  fragile  wares.  She  asked  for  nothing ;  but  when 
she  was  called  upon  to  make  a  choice,  when  Castanier  asked 


294  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

her,  "Which  do  you  like?"  she  would  answer,  "Why,  this 
is  the  nicest !  "  Love  never  counts  the  cost,  and  Castanier 
therefore  always  took  the  "nicest." 

When  once  the  standard  had  been  set  up,  there  was  noth- 
ing for  it  but  everything  in  the  household  must  be  in  con- 
formity, from  the  linen,  plate,  and  crystal  through  a  thousand 
and  one  items  of  expenditure  down  to  the  pots  and  pans  in 
the  kitchen.  Castanier  had  meant  to  "do  things  simply,"  as 
the  saying  goes,  but  he  gradually  found  himself  more  and 
more  in  debt.  One  expense  entailed  another.  The  clock 
called  for  candle  sconces.  Fires  must  be  lighted  in  the  orna- 
mental grates,  but  the  curtains  and  hangings  were  too  fresh 
and  delicate  to  be  soiled  by  smuts,  so  they  must  be  replaced 
by  patent  and  elaborate  fireplaces,  warranted  to  give  out  no 
smoke,  recent  inventions  of  the  people  who  are  clever  at 
drawing  up  a  prospectus.  Then  Aquilina  found  it  so  nice  to 
run  about  barefooted  on  the  carpet  in  her  room,  that  Casta- 
nier must  have  soft  carpets  laid  everywhere  for  the  pleasure  of 
playing  with  Naqui.  A  bathroom,  too,  was  built  for  her, 
everything  to  the  end  that  she  might  be  more  comfortable. 

Shopkeepers,  workmen,  and  manufacturers  in  Paris  have  a 
mysterious  knack  of  enlarging  a  hole  in  a  man's  purse.  They 
cannot  give  the  price  of  anything  upon  inquiry ;  and  as  the 
paroxysm  of  longing  cannot  abide  delay,  orders  are  given  by 
the  feeble  light  of  an  approximate  estimate  of  cost.  The 
same  people  never  send  in  the  bills  at  once,  but  ply  the  pur- 
chaser with  furniture  till  his  head  spins.  Everything  is  so 
pretty,  so  charming ;  and  every  one  is  satisfied. 

A  few  months  later  the  obliging  furniture  dealers  are  meta- 
morphosed, and  reappear  in  the  shape  of  alarming  totals  on 
invoices  that  fill  the  soul  with  their  horrid  clamor ;  they  are 
in  urgent  want  of  the  money ;  they  are,  as  you  may  say,  on  the 
brink  of  bankruptcy,  their  tears  flow,  it  is  heartrending  to 

hear  them  !  And  then the  gulf  yawns,  and  gives  up 

serried  columns  of  figures  marching  four  deep,  when,  as  a 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  295 

matter  of  fact,  they  should  have  issued  innocently  three  by 
three. 

Before  Castanier  had  any  idea  of  how  much  he  had  spenbf 
he  had  arranged  for  Aquilina  to  have  a  carriage  from  a  livery 
stable  when  she  went  out,  instead  of  a  cab.  Castanier  was  a 
gourmand ;  he  engaged  an  excellent  cook ;  and  Aquilina,  to 
please  him,  had  herself  made  the  purchases  of  early  fruit  and 
vegetables,  rare  delicacies,  and  exquisite  wines.  But,  as 
Aquilina  had  nothing  of  her  own,  these  gifts  of  hers,  so 
precious  by  reason  of  the  thought  and  tact  and  graciousness 
that  prompted  them,  were  no  less  a  drain  upon  Castanier's 
purse ;  he  did  not  like  his  Naqui  to  be  without  money,  and 
Naqui  could  not  keep  money  in  her  pocket.  So  the  table 
was  a  heavy  item  of  expenditure  for  a  man  with  Castanier's 
income.  The  ex-dragoon  was  compelled  to  resort  to  various 
shifts  for  obtaining  money,  for  he  could  not  bring  himself  to 
renounce  this  delightful  life.  He  loved  the  woman  too  well  to 
cross  the  freaks  of  the  mistress.  He  was  one  of  those  men 
who,  through  self-love  or  through  weakness  of  character,  can 
refuse  nothing  to  a  woman  ;  false  shame  overpowers  them, 
and  they  rather  face  ruin  than  make  the  admissions :  "  I  can- 
not  "  "My  means  will  not  permit "  "I  cannot 

afford " 

When,  therefore,  Castanier  saw  that  if  he  meant  to  emerge 
from  the  abyss  of  debt  into  which  he  had  plunged,  he  must 
part  with  Aquilina  and  live  upon  bread  and  water,  he  was  so 
unable  to  do  without  her  or  to  change  his  habits  of  life 
that  daily  he  put  off  his  plans  of  reform  until  the  morrow. 
The  debts  were  pressing,  and  he  began  by  borrowing  money. 
His  position  and  previous  character  inspired  confidence,  and 
of  this  he  took  advantage  to  devise  a  system  of  borrowing 
money  as  he  required  it.  Then,  as  the  total  amount  of  debt 
rapidly  increased,  he  had  recourse  to  those  commercial  inven- 
tions known  as  accommodation  bills.  This  form  of  bill  does 
not  represent  goods  or  other  value  received,  and  the  first 


296  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

endorser  pays  the  amount  named  for  the  obliging  person  who 
accepts  it.  This  species  of  fraud  is  tolerated  because  it  is 
impossible  to  detect  it,  and,  moreover,  it  is  an  imaginary 
fraud  which  only  becomes  real  if  payment  is  ultimately  re- 
fused. 

When  at  length  it  was  evidently  impossible  to  borrow  any 
longer,  whether  because  the  amount  of  the  debt  was  now  so 
greatly  increased,  or  because  Castanier  was  unable  to  pay  the  large 
amount  of  interest  on  the  aforesaid  sums  of  money,  the  cashier 
saw  bankruptcy  before  him.  On  making  this  discovery,  he 
decided  for  a  fraudulent  bankruptcy  rather  than  an  ordinary 
failure,  and  preferred  a  crime  to  a  misdemeanor.  He  deter- 
mined, after  the  fashion  of  the  celebrated  cashier  of  the  Royal 
Treasury,  to  abuse  the  trust  deservedly  won,  and  to  increase 
the  number  of  his  creditors  by  making  a  final  loan  of  the 
sum  sufficient  to  keep  him  in  comfort  in  a  foreign  country  for 
the  rest  of  his  days.  All  this,  as  has  been  seen,  he  had  pre- 
pared to  do. 

Aquilina  knew  nothing  of  the  irksome  cares  of  this  life ; 
she  enjoyed  her  existence,  as  many  a  woman  does,  making  no 
inquiry  as  to  where  the  money  came  from,  even  as  sundry 
other  folk  will  eat  their  buttered  rolls  untroubled  by  any  rest- 
less spirit  of  curiosity  as  to  the  culture  and  growth  of  wheat ; 
but  as  the  labor  and  miscalculations  of  agriculture  lie  on  the 
other  side  of  the  baker's  oven,  so,  beneath  the  unappreciated 
luxury  of  many  a  Parisian  household,  lie  intolerable  anxieties 
and  exorbitant  toil. 

While  Castanier  was  enduring  the  torture  of  the  strain,  and 
his  thoughts  were  full  of  the  deed  that  should  change  his 
whole  life,  Aquilina  was  lying  luxuriously  back  in  a  great 
armchair  by  the  fireside,  beguiling  the  time  by  chatting  with 
her  waiting-maid.  As  frequently  happens  in  such  cases,  the 
maid  had  become  the  mistress'  confidante,  Jenny  having  first 
assured  herself  that  her  mistress'  ascendency  over  Castanier 
was  complete. 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  297 

"  What  are  we  to  do  this  evening?  Leon  seems  determined 
to  come,"  Mme.  de  la  Garde  was  saying,  as  she  read  a  oas- 
sionate  epistle  indited  upon  a  faint  gray  note-paper. 

"  Here  is  the  master  !  "  said  Jenny. 

Castanier  came  in.  Aquilina,  nowise  disconcerted,  crumpled 
up  the  letter,  took  it  with  the  tongs,  and  held  it  in  the  flames. 

"So  that  is  what  you  do  with  your  love-letters,  is  it?" 
asked  Castanier. 

"Oh,  goodness,  yes,"  said  Aquilina;  "is  it  not  the  best 
way  of  keeping  them  safe  ?  Besides,  fire  should  go  to  the  fire, 
as  water  makes  for  the  river." 

"  You  are  talking  as  if  it  were  a  real  love-letter,  Naqui " 

"  Well,  am  I  not  handsome  enough  to  receive  them?  "  she 
said,  holding  up  her  forehead  for  a  kiss.  There  was  a  care- 
lessness in  her  manner  that  would  have  told  any  man  less 
blind  than  Castanier  that  it  was  only  a  piece  of  conjugal  duty, 
as  it  were,  to  give  this  joy  to  the  cashier ;  but  use  and  wont 
had  brought  Castanier  to  the  point  where  clear-sightedness  is 
no  longer  possible  for  love. 

"I  have  taken  a  box  at  the  Gymnase  this  evening,"  he 
said  ;  "let  us  have  dinner  early,  and  then  we  need  not  dine 
in  a  hurry." 

"  Go  and  take  Jenny.  I  am  tired  of  plays.  I  do  not 
know  what  is  the  matter  with  me  this  evening  ;  I  would  rather 
stay  here  by  the  fire." 

"  Come,  all  the  same  though,  Naqui ;  I  shall  not  be  here  to 
bore  you  much  longer.  Yes,  Naqui,  I  am  going  to  start  to- 
night, and  it  will  be  some  time  before  I  come  back  again.  I 
am  leaving  everything  in  your  charge.  Will  you  keep  your 
heart  for  me  too?  " 

"Neither  my  heart  nor  anything  else,"  she  said;  "but 
when  you  come  back  again,  Naqui  will  still  be  Naqui  for 
you." 

"  Well,  this  is  frankness.     So  you  would  not  follow  me?  " 

"  No." 


298  MEL  MOTH  RECONCILED. 

"Why  not?" 

"Eh!  why,  how  can  I  leave  the  lover  who  writes  me  such 
sweet  little  notes?"  she  asked,  pointing  to  the  blackened 
scrap  of  paper  with  a  mocking  smile. 

"  Is  there  any  truth  in  it  ?  "  asked  Castanier.  "  Have  you 
really  a  lover?" 

"  Really  !  "  cried  Aquilina  ;  "  and  have  you  never  given  it 
a  serious  thought,  dear  ?  To  begin  with,  you  are  fifty  years 
old.  Then  you  have  just  the  sort  of  face  to  put  on  a  fruit 
stall ;  if  the  woman  tried  to  sell  you  for  a  pumpkin,  no  one 
would  contradict  her.  You  puff  and  blow  like  a  seal  when 
you  come  upstairs ;  your  paunch  rises  and  falls  like  the  dia- 
mond on  a  woman's  forehead !  It  is  pretty  plain  that  you 
served  in  the  dragoons  !  you  are  a  very  ugly-looking  old  man. 
Fiddle-de-dee.  If  you  have  any  mind  to  keep  my  respect,  I 
recommend  you  not  to  add  imbecility  to  these  qualities  by 
imagining  that  such  a  girl  as  I  am  will  be  content  with  your 
asthmatic  love,  and  not  look  for  youth  and  good  looks  and 
pleasure  by  way  of  a  variety " 

"Aquilina!  you  are  laughing,  of  course?" 

"  Oh,  very  well;  and  are  you  not  laughing  too?  Do  you 
take  me  for  a  fool,  telling  me  that  you  are  going  away  ?  '  I 
am  going  to  start  to-night  !  '  she  said,  mimicking  his  tones. 
Stuff  and  nonsense  1  Would  you  talk  like  that  if  you  were 
really  going  away  from  your  Naqui?  You  would  cry,  like 
the  booby  that  you  are  !  ' ' 

"After  all,  if  I  go,  will  you  follow?  "  he  asked. 

"Tell  me  first  whether  this  journey  of  yours  is  a  bad  joke 
or  not." 

"  Yes,  seriously,  I  am  going." 

"Well,  then,  seriously,  I  shall  stay.  A  pleasant  journey 
to  you,  my  boy !  I  will  wait  till  you  come  back.  I  would 
sooner  take  leave  of  life  than  take  leave  of  my  dear,  cozy 
Paris " 

"  Will  you  not  come  to  Italy,  to  Naples,  and  lead  a  pleasant 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  299 

life  there — a  delicious,  luxurious  life,  with  this  stout  old  fogy 
of  yours,  who  puffs  and  blows  like  a  seal?  "  * 

"No." 

"Ungrateful  girl !  " 

"Ungrateful?"  she  cried,  rising  to  her  feet.  "I  might 
leave  this  house  this  moment  and  take  nothing  out  of  it  but 
myself.  I  shall  have  given  you  all  the  treasures  a  young  girl 
can  give,  and  something  that  not  every  drop  in  your  veins  and 
mine  can  ever  give  me  back.  If,  by  any  means  whatever,  by 
selling  my  hopes  of  eternity,  for  instance,  I  could  recover  my 
past  self,  body  and  soul  (for  I  have,  perhaps,  redeemed  my 
soul),  and  be  pure  as  a  lily  for  my  lover,  I  would  not  hesitate 
a  moment !  What  sort  of  devotion  has  rewarded  mine?  You 
have  housed  and  fed  me,  just  as  you  give  a  dog  food  and  a 
kennel  because  he  is  a  protection  to  the  house,  and  he  may 
take  kicks  when  we  are  out  of  humor,  and  lick  our  hands  as 
soon  as  we  are  pleased  to  call  to  him.  And  which  of  us  two 
will  have  been  the  more  generous?"  she  curtly  asked  Cas- 
tanier  in  conclusion. 

"  Oh  !  dear  child,  do  you  not  see  that  I  am  joking  ?  "  re- 
turned Castanier.  "lam  going  on  a  short  journey;  I  shall 
not  be  away  for  very  long.  But  come  with  me  to  the  Gym- 
nase ;  I  shall  start  just  before  midnight,  after  I  have  had  time 
to  say  good-bye  to  you." 

"Poor  pet  !  so  you  are  really  going,  are  you?"  she  said. 
She  put  her  arms  round  his  neck,  and  drew  down  his  head 
against  her  bodice. 

"  You  are  smothering  me  !  "  cried  Castanier,  with  his  face 
buried  in  Aquilina's  breast.  That  damsel  turned  to  say  in 
Jenny's  ear,  "  Go  to  Leon,  and  tell  him  not  to  come  till  one 
o'clock.  If  you  do  not  find  him,  and  he  comes  here  during 
the  leave-taking,  keep  him  in  your  room.  Well,"  she  went 
on,  setting  free  Castanier,  and  giving  a  tweak  to  the  tip  of  his 
nose,  "  never  mind,  handsomest  of  seals  that  you  are.  I  will 
go  to  the  theatre  with  you  this  evening.  But  all  in  good 


300  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

time ;  let  us  have  dinner  !  There  is  a  nice  little  dinner  for 
you — just  what  you  like." 

"It  is  very  hard  to  part  from  such  a  woman  as  you !  "  ex- 
claimed Castanier. 

"  Very  well  then,  why  do  you  go  ?  "  asked  she. 

"Ah  !  why?  why?  If  I  were  to  begin  to  explain  the  rea- 
sons why,  I  must  tell  you  things  that  would  prove  to  you  that 
I  love  you  almost  to  madness.  Ah  !  if  you  have  sacrificed 
your  honor  for  me,  I  have  sold  mine  for  you ;  we  are  quits. 
Is  that  love?" 

"  What  is  all  this  about?  "  said  she.  "  Come,  now,  promise 
me  that  if  I  had  a  lover  you  would  still  love  me  as  a  father ; 
that  would  be  love !  Come,  now,  promise  it  at  once,  and 
give  us  your  fist  upon  it." 

"  I  should  kill  you,"  and  Castanier  smiled  as  he  spoke. 

They  sat  down  to  the  dinner  table,  and  went  thence  to  the 
Gymnase.  When  the  first  part  of  the  performance  was  over, 
it  occurred  to  Castanier  to  show  himself  to  some  of  his  ac- 
quaintances in  the  house,  so  as  to  turn  away  any  suspicion  of 
his  departure.  He  left  Mme.  de  la  Garde  in  the  corner  box 
where  she  was  seated,  according  to  her  modest  wont,  and 
went  to  walk  up  and  down  in  the  lobby.  He  had  not  gone 
many  paces  before  he  saw  the  Englishman,  and  with  a  sudden 
return  of  the  sickening  sensation  of  heat  that  once  before  had 
vibrated  through  him,  and  of  the  terror  that  he  had  felt 
already,  he  stood  face  to  face  with  Melmoth. 

"Forger!" 

At  the  word,  Castanier  glanced  round  at  the  people  who 
were  moving  about  them.  He  fancied  that  he  could  see  aston- 
ishment and  curiosity  in  their  eyes,  and  wishing  to  be  rid  of 
this  Englishman  at  once,  he  raised  his  hand  to  strike  him — 
and  felt  his  arm  paralyzed  by  some  invisible  power  that  sapped 
his  strength  and  nailed  him  to  the  spot.  He  allowed  the 
stranger  to  take  him  by  the  arm,  and  they  walked  together  to 
the  green-room  like  two  friends. 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  301 

"  Who  is  strong  enough  to  resist  me  ?  "  said  the  Englishman, 
addressing  him.  "  Do  you  not  know  that  everything  here  on 
earth  must  obey  me,  that  it  is  in  my  power  to  do  everything  ? 
I  read  men's  thoughts,  I  see  the  future,  and  I  know  the  past. 
I  am  here,  and  I  can  be  elsewhere  also.  Time  and  space  and 
distance  are  nothing  to  me.  The  whole  world  is  at  my  beck 
and  call.  I  have  the  power  of  continual  enjoyment  and  of 
giving  joy.  I  can  see  through  walls,  discover  hidden  treas- 
ures, and  fill  my  hands  with  them.  Palaces  arise  at  my  nod, 
and  my  architect  makes  no  mistakes.  I  can  make  all  lands 
break  forth  into  blossom,  heap  up  their  gold  and  precious 
stones,  and  surround  myself  with  fair  women  and  ever-new 
faces;  everything  is  yielded  up  to  my  will.  I  could  gamble 
on  the  Stock  Exchange,  and  my  speculations  would  be  infal- 
lible ;  but  a  man  who  can  find  the  hoards  that  misers  have 
hidden  in  the  earth  need  not  trouble  himself  about  stocks. 
Feel  the  strength  of  the  hand  that  grasps  you ;  poor  wretch, 
doomed  to  shame  !  Try  to  bend  the  arm  of  iron  !  try  to 
soften  the  adamantine  heart  !  Fly  from  me  if  you  dare  ! 
You  would  hear  my  voice  in  the  depths  of  the  caves  that  lie 
under  the  Seine ;  you  might  hide  in  the  Catacombs,  but  would 
you  not  see  me  there?  My  voice  could  be  heard  through  the 
sound  of  the  thunder,  my  eyes  shine  as  brightly  as  the  sun, 
for  I  am  the  peer  of  Lucifer  ! " 

Castanier  heard  the  terrible  words,  and  felt  no  protest  nor 
contradiction  within  himself.  He  walked  side  by  side  with 
the  Englishman,  and  had  no  power  to  leave  him. 

"  You  are  mine ;  you  have  just  committed  a  crime.  I  have 
found  at  last  the  mate  whom  I  have  sought.  Have  you  a  mind 
to  learn  your  destiny  ?  Aha !  you  came  here  to  see  a  play, 
and  you  shall  see  a  play — nay,  two.  Come.  Present  me  to 
Mme.  de  la  Garde  as  one  of  your  best  friends.  Am  I  not 
your  last  hope  of  escape?" 

Castanier,  followed  by  the  stranger,  returned  to  his  box, 
and,  in  accordance  with  the  order  he  had  just  received,  he 


302  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

hastened  to  introduce  Melmoth  to  Mme.  de  la  Garde.  Aquilina 
seemed  to  be  not  in  the  least  surprised.  The  Englishman 
declined  to  take  a  seat  in  front,  and  Castanier  was  once  more 
beside  his  mistress ;  the  man's  slightest  wish  must  be  obeyed. 
The  last  piece  was  about  to  begin,  for,  at  that  time,  small  thea- 
tres only  gave  three  pieces.  One  of  the  actors  had  made  the 
Gymnase  the  fashion,  and  that  evening  Perlet  (the  actor  in 
question)  was  to  play  in  a  vaudeville  called  the  Le  Comedien 
d'Etampes,  in  which  he  filled  four  different  parts. 

When  the  curtain  rose,  the  stranger  stretched  out  his  hand 
over  the  crowded  house.  Castanier's  cry  of  terror  died  away, 
for  the  walls  of  his  throat  seemed  glued  together  as  Melmoth 
pointed  to  the  stage,  and  the  cashier  knew  that  the  play  had 
been  changed  at  the  Englishman's  desire. 

He  saw  the  strong-room  at  the  bank ;  he  saw  the  Baron  de 
Nucingen  in  conference  with  a  police-officer  from  the  Prefec- 
ture, who  was  informing  him  of  Castanier's  conduct,  explain- 
ing that  the  cashier  had  absconded  with  money  taken  from 
the  safe,  giving  the  history  of  the  forged  signature.  The 
information  was  put  in  writing ;  the  document  signed  and 
duly  despatched  to  the  Public  Prosecutor. 

"  Are  we  in  time,  do  you  think?  "  asked  Nucingen. 

"Yes,"  said  the  agent  of  police;  "  he  is  at  the  Gymnase, 
and  has  no  suspicion  of  anything." 

Castanier  fidgeted  on  his  chair,  and  made  as  if  he  would 
leave  the  theatre,  but  Melmoth' s  hand  lay  on  his  shoulder, 
and  he  was  obliged  to  sit  and  watch  ;  the  hideous  power  of 
the  man  produced  an  effect  like  that  of  nightmare,  and  he 
could  not  move  a  limb.  Nay,  the  man  himself  was  the  night- 
mare ;  his  presence  weighed  heavily  on  his  victim  like  a 
poisoned  atmosphere.  When  the  wretched  cashier  turned  to 
implore  the  Englishman's  mercy,  he  met  those  blazing  eyes 
that  discharged  electric  currents,  which  pierced  through  him 
and  transfixed  him  like  darts  of  steel. 

"What  have  I  done  to  you?"  he  said,  in  his  prostrate 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  303 

helplessness,  and  he  breathed  hard  like  a  stag  at  the  water's 
edge.  "  What  do  you  want  of  me  ?  " 

"Look!  "  cried  Melmoth. 

Castanier  looked  at  the  stage.  The  scene  had  been  changed. 
The  play  seemed  to  be  over,  and  Castanier  beheld  himself 
stepping  from  the  carriage  with  Aquilina  ;  but  as  he  entered 
the  courtyard  of  the  house  in  the  Rue  Richer,  the  scene  again 
was  suddenly  changed,  and  he  saw  his  own  house.  Jenny  was 
chatting  by  the  fire  in  her  mistress'  room  with  a  subaltern 
officer  of  a  line  regiment  then  stationed  at  Paris. 

"He  is  going,  is  he?"  said  the  sergeant,  who  seemed  to 
belong  to  a  family  in  easy  circumstances;  "I  can  be  happy 
at  my  ease  !  I  love  Aquilina  too  well  to  allow  her  to  belong 
to  that  old  toad  !  I,  myself,  am  going  to  marry  Mme.  de  la 
Garde  !  "  cried  the  sergeant. 

"  Old  toad  !  "  Castanier  murmured  piteously. 

"Here  come  the  master  and  mistress;  hide  yourself! 
Stay,  get  in  here,  Monsieur  Leon,"  said  Jenny.  "The  mas- 
ter won't  stay  here  for  very  long." 

Castanier  watched  the  sergeant  hide  himself  among  Aqui- 
lina's  gowns  in  her  dressing-room.  Almost  immediately  he 
himself  appeared  upon  the  scene,  and  took  leave  of  his  mis- 
tress, who  made  fun  of  him  in  "  asides  "  to  Jenny,  while  she 
uttered  the  sweetest  and  tenderest  words  in  his  ears.  She 
wept  with  one  side  of  her  face,  and  laughed  with  the  other. 
The  audience  called  for  an  encore. 

"Accursed  creature  !  "  cried  Castanier  from  his  box. 

Aquilina  was  laughing  till  the  tears  came  into  her  eyes. 

"Goodness!"  she  cried,  "how  funny  Perlet  is  as  the 
Englishwoman  !  Why  don't  you  laugh?  Every  one  else  in 
the  house  is  laughing.  Laugh,  dear  !  "  she  said  to  Castanier. 

Melmoth  burst  out  laughing,  and  the  unhappy  cashier 
shuddered.  The  Englishman's  laughter  wrung  his  heart  and 
tortured  his  brain  ;  it  was  as  if  a  surgeon  had  bored  his  skull 
with  a  red-hot  iron. 


304  MELMO7H  RECONCILED. 

"  Laughing  !  are  they  laughing  ?  "  stammered  Castanier. 

He  did  not  see  the  prim  English  lady  whom  Perlet  was  act- 
ing with  such  ludicrous  effect,  nor  hear  the  English  French 
that  had  filled  the  house  with  roars  of  laughter ;  instead  of  all 
this,  he  beheld  himself  hurrying  from  the  Rue  Richer,  hail- 
ing a  cab  on  the  Boulevard,  bargaining  with  the  man  to  take 
him  to  Versailles.  Then  once  more  the  scene  changed.  He 
recognized  the  sorry  inn  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue  de  1'Oran- 
gerie  and  the  Rue  des  Recollets,  which  was  kept  by  his  old 
quartermaster.  It  was  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  most 
perfect  stillness  prevailed,  no  one  was  there  to  watch  his 
movements.  The  post-horses  were  put  into  the  carriage  (it 
came  from  a  house  in  the  Avenue  de  Paris  in  which  an 
Englishman  lived,  and  had  been  ordered  in  the  foreigner's 
name  to  avoid  raising  suspicion).  Castanier  saw  that  he  had 
his  bills  and  his  passports,  stepped  into  the  carriage,  and  set 
out.  But  at  the  barrier  he  saw  two  gendarmes  lying  in  wait 
for  the  carriage.  A  cry  of  horror  burst  from  him,  but  Mel- 
moth  gave  him  a  glance,  and  again  the  sound  died  in  his 
throat. 

"Keep  your  eyes  on  the  stage,  and  be  quiet !"  said  the 
Englishman. 

In  another  moment  Castanier  saw  himself  flung  into  prison 
at  the  Conciergerie ;  and  in  the  fifth  act  of  the  drama,  enti- 
tled "The  Cashier,"  he  saw  himself,  in  three  months'  time, 
condemned  to  twenty  years  of  penal  servitude.  Again  a  cry 
broke  from  him.  He  was  exposed  upon  the  Place  du  Palais- 
de-Justice,  and  the  executioner  branded  him  with  a  red-hot 
iron.  Then  came  the  last  scene  of  all ;  among  some  sixty 
convicts  in  the  prison  yard  of  the  Bic&tre,  he  was  awaiting 
his  turn  to  have  the  irons  riveted  on  his  limbs. 

"Dear  me!  I  cannot  laugh  any  more?"  said  Aquilina. 
"You  are  very  solemn,  dear  boy;  what  can  be  the  matter? 
The  gentleman  has  gone." 

"A  word  with  you,  Castanier,"  said  Melmoth  when  the 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  305 

piece  was  at  an  end,  and  the  attendant  was  fastening  Mme. 
de  la  Garde's  cloak. 

The  corridor  was  crowded,  and  escape  impossible. 

"  Very  well,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  No  human  power  can  hinder  you  from  taking  Aquilina 
home,  and  going  next  to  Versailles,  there  to  be  arrested." 

"How  so?" 

"  Because  you  are  in  a  hand  that  will  never  relax  its  grasp," 
returned  the  Englishman. 

Castanier  longed  for  the  power  to  utter  some  word  that 
should  blot  him  out  from  among  living  men  and  hide  him  in 
the  lowest  depths  of  hell. 

"  Suppose  that  the  devil  were  to  make  a  bid  for  your  soul, 
would  you  not  give  it  to  him  now  in  exchange  for  the  power  of 
God?  One  single  word,  and  those  five  hundred  thousand 
francs  shall  be  back  in  the  Baron  de  Nucingen's  safe ;  then 
you  can  tear  up  your  letter  of  credit,  and  all  traces  of  your 
crime  will  be  obliterated.  Moreover,  you  would  have  gold 
in  torrents.  You  hardly  believe  in  anything  perhaps  ?  Well, 
if  all  this  comes  to  pass,  you  will  believe  at  least  in  the 
devil." 

"  If  it  were  only  possible  !  "  said  Castanier  joyfully. 

"  The  man  who  can  do  it  all  gives  you  his  word  that  it  is 
possible,"  answered  the  Englishman. 

Melmoth,  Castanier,  and  Mme.  de  la  Garde  were  standing 
out  in  the  Boulevard  when  Melmoth  raised  his  arm.  A  driz- 
zling rain  was  falling,  the  streets  were  muddy,  the  air  was 
close,  there  was  thick  darkness  overhead  ;  but  in  a  moment, 
as  the  arm  was  outstretched,  Paris  was  filled  with  sunlight ;  it 
was  high  noon  on  a  bright  July  day.  The  trees  were  covered 
with  leaves;  a  double  stream  of  joyous  holiday  makers  strolled 
beneath  them.  Sellers  of  licorice  water  shouted  their  cool 
drinks.  Splendid  carriages  rolled  past  along  the  streets.  A 
cry  of  terror  broke  from  the  cashier,  and  at  that  cry  rain  and 
darkness  once  more  settled  down  upon  the  Boulevard. 
20 


306  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

Mme.  de  la  Garde  had  stepped  into  the  carriage.  "  Do  be 
quick,  dear !  "  she  cried,  "  either  come  in  or  stay  out.  Really 
you  are  as  dull  as  ditch  water  this  evening " 

"  What  must  I  do?  "  Castanier  asked  of  Melmoth. 

"Would  you  like  to  take  my  place?"  inquired  the  Eng- 
lishman. 

"Yes." 

"  Very  well,  then ;  I  will  be  at  your  house  in  a  few  mo- 
ments." 

"By  the  by,  Castanier,  you  are  rather  off  your  balance?" 
Aquilina  remarked.  "  There  is  some  mischief  brewing  ;  you 
were  quite  melancholy  and  thoughtful  all  through  the  play. 
Do  you  want  anything  that  I  can  give  you,  dear?  Tell  me  ?  " 

"I am  waiting  till  we  are  at  home  to  know  whether  you 
love  me." 

"You  need  not  wait  till  then,"  she  said,  throwing  her  arms 
round  his  neck.  "There!  "  she  said,  as  she  embraced  him, 
passionately  to  all  appearance,  and  plied  him  with  the  coaxing 
caresses  that  are  part  of  the  business  of  such  a  life  as  hers,  like 
stage  action  for  an  actress. 

"  Where  is  the  music?  "  asked  Castanier. 

"  What  next  ?     Only  think  of  your  hearing  music  now  !  " 

"  Heavenly  music  !  "  he  went  on.  "  The  sounds  seem  to 
come  from  above." 

"  What  ?  You  have  always  refused  to  give  me  a  box  at  the 
Italiens  because  you  could  not  abide  music,  and  are  you  turn- 
ing music-mad  at  this  time  of  day  ?  Mad — that  you  are ! 
The  music  is  inside  your  own  noddle,  old  addle-pate  !  "  she 
went  on,  as  she  took  his  head  in  her  hands  and  rocked  it  to 
and  fro  on  her  shoulder.  "Tell  me  now,  old  man;  isn't  it 
the  creaking  of  the  wheels  that  sings  in  your  ears  ?  " 

"Just  listen,  Naqui  !  If  the  angels  make  music  for  God 
Almighty,  it  must  be  such  music  as  this  that  I  am  drinking  in 
at  every  pore,  rather  than  hearing.  I  do  not  know  how  to  tell 
you  about  it ;  it  is  as  sweet  as  honey-water  !  " 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  307 

"Why,  of  course,  they  have  music  in  heaven,  for  the  angels 
in  all  the  pictures  have  harps  in  their  hands.  He  is  mad, 
upon  my  word!  "  she  said  to  herself,  as  she  saw  Castanier's 
attitude ;  he  looked  like  an  opium-eater  in  a  blissful  trance. 

They  reached  the  house.  Castanier,  absorbed  by  the 
thought  of  all  that  he  had  just  heard  and  seen,  knew  not 
whether  to  believe  it  or  no ;  he  was  like  a  drunken  man,  and 
utterly  unable  to  think  connectedly.  He  came  to  himself  in 
Aquilina's  room,  whither  he  had  been  supported  by  the  united 
efforts  of  his  mistress,  the  porter,  and  Jenny;  for  he  had 
fainted  as  he  stepped  from  the  carriage. 

"He  will  be  here  directly  !  Oh,  my  friends,  my  friends  !  " 
he  cried,  and  he  flung  himself  despairingly  into  the  depths  of 
a  low  chair  beside  the  fire. 

Jenny  heard  the  bell  as  he  spoke,  and  admitted  the  English- 
man. She  announced  that  "a  gentleman  had  come  who  had 
made  an  appointment  with  the  master,"  when  Melmoth  sud- 
denly appeared,  and  deep  silence  followed.  He  looked  at  the 
porter — the  porter  went;  he  looked  at  Jenny — and  Jenny 
went  likewise. 

"Madame,"  said  Melmoth,  turning  to  Aquilina,  "with 
your  permission,  we  will  conclude  a  piece  of  urgent  business." 

He  took  Castanier's  hand,  and  Castanier  rose,  and  the  two 
men  went  into  the  drawing-room.  There  was  no  light  in  the 
room,  but  Melmoth's  eyes  lit  up  the  thickest  darkness.  The 
gaze  of  those  strange  eyes  had  left  Aquilina  like  one  spell- 
bound;  she  was  helpless,  unable  to  take  any  thought  for  her 
lover;  moreover,  she  believed  him  to  be  safe  in  Jenny's  room, 
whereas  their  early  return  had  taken  the  waiting-woman  by 
surprise,  and  she  had  hidden  the  officer  in  the  dressing-room. 
It  had  all  happened  exactly'  as  in  the  drama  that  Melmoth 
had  displayed  for  his  victim.  Presently  the  house-door  was 
slammed  violently,  and  Castanier  reappeared. 

"What  ails  you?"  cried  the  horror-struck  Aquilina. 

There  was  a  change  in  the  cashier's  appearance.     A  strange 


308  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

pallor  overspread  his  once  rubicund  countenance ;  it  wore  the 
peculiarly  sinister  and  stony  look  of  the  mysterious  visitor. 
The  sullen  glare  of  his  eyes  was  intolerable,  the  fierce  light  in 
them  seemed  to  scorch.  The  man  who  had  looked  so  good- 
humored  and  good-natured  had  suddenly  grown  tyrannical 
and  proud.  The  courtesan  thought  that  Castanier  had  grown 
thinner;  there  was  a  terrible  majesty  in  his  brow;  it  was  as  if 
a  dragon  breathed  forth  a  malignant  influence  that  weighed 
upon  the  others  like  a  close,  heavy  atmosphere.  For  a  moment 
Aquilina  knew  not  what  to  do. 

"  What  passed  between  you  and  that  diabolical-looking 
man  in  those  few  minutes  ?  ' '  she  asked  at  length. 

"  I  have  sold  my  soul  to  him.  I  feel  it ;  I  am  no  longer 
the  same.  He  has  taken  my  self,  and  given  me  his  soul  in 
exchange. ' ' 

"What?" 

"You  would  not  understand  it  at  all Ah!  he  was 

right,"  Castanier  went  on,  "  the  fiend  was  right  !  I  see  every- 
thing and  know  all  things.  You  have  been  deceiving  me  !  " 

Aquilina  turned  cold  with  terror.  Castanier  lighted  a 
candle  and  went  into  the  dressing-room.  The  unhappy  girl 
followed  him  in  dazed  bewilderment,  and  great  was  her 
astonishment  when  Castanier  drew  the  dresses  that  hung  there 
aside  and  disclosed  the  sergeant. 

"  Come  out,  my  boy,"  said  the  cashier;  and,  taking  Leon 
by  a  button  of  his  overcoat,  he  drew  the  officer  into  his  room. 

The  Piedmontese,  haggard  and  desperate,  had  flung  herself 
into  her  easy-chair.  Castanier  seated  himself  on  a  sofa  by 
the  fire,  and  left  Aquilina's  lover  in  a  standing  position. 

"You  have  been  in  the  army,"  said  Leon;  "  I  am  ready 
to  give  you  satisfaction." 

"  You  are  a  fool,"  said  Castanier  drily.  "  I  have  no  occa- 
sion to  fight.  I  could  kill  you  by  a  look  if  I  had  any  mind 
to  do  it.  I  will  tell  you  what  it  is,  youngster;  why  should  I 
kill  you  ?  I  can  see  a  red  line  round  your  neck — the  guillo- 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  309 

tine  is  waiting  for  you.  Yes,  you  will  end  in  the  Place  de 
Greve.  You  are  the  headsman's  property  !  there  is  no  escape 
for  you.  You  belong  to  a  vendila  of  the  Carbonari.  You  are 
plotting  against  the  government." 

"You  did  not  tell  me  that,"  cried  the  Piedmontese,  turn- 
ing to  Leon. 

"  So  you  do  not  know  that  the  Minister  decided  this  morn- 
ing to  put  down  your  society  ?  "  the  cashier  continued.  "  The 
Procureur-General  has  a  list  of  your  names.  You  have  been 
betrayed.  They  are  busy  drawing  up  the  indictment  at  this 
moment." 

"  Then  was  it  you  who  betrayed  him  ?  "  cried  Aquilina,  and 
with  a  hoarse  sound  in  her  throat  like  the  growl  of  a  tigress 
she  rose  to  her  feet ;  she  seemed  as  if  she  would  tear  Castanier 
in  pieces. 

"You  know  me  too  well  to  believe  it,"  Castanier  retorted. 
Aquilina  was  benumbed  by  his  coolness. 

"  Then  how  did  you  know  it? "  she  murmured. 

"  I  did  not  know  it  until  I  went  into  the  drawing-room ; 
now  I  know  it — now  I  see  and  know  all  things,  and  can  do  all 
things." 

The  sergeant  was  overcome  with  amazement. 

"Very  well  then,  save  him,  save  him,  dear!"  cried  the 
girl,  flinging  herself  at  Castanier's  feet.  "If  nothing  is 
impossible  to  you,  save  him  !  I  will  love  you,  I  will  adore 
you,  I  will  be  your  slave  and  not  your  mistress.  I  will  obey 
your  wildest  whims  ;  you  shall  do  as  you  will  with  me.  Yes, 
yes,  I  will  give  you  more  than  love  ;  you  shall  have  a  daugh- 
ter's devotion  as  well  as Rodolphe  !  why  will  you  not 

understand  !  After  all,  however  violent  my  passions  may  be, 
I  shall  be  yours  for  ever !  What  should  I  say  to  persuade 

you  ?  I  will  invent  pleasures 1 Great  heavens  !  one 

moment !  whatever  you  shall  ask  of  me — to  fling  myself  from 
the  window,  for  instance — you  will  need  to  say  but  one  word, 
'  Leon  !  '  and  I  will  plunge  down  into  hell.  I  would  bear 


310  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

any  torture,  any  pain  of  body  or  soul,  anything  you  might 
inflict  upon  me  !  " 

Castanier  heard  her  with  indifference.  For  all  answer,  he 
indicated  Leon  to  her  with  a  fiendish  laugh. 

"The  guillotine  is  waiting  for  him,"  he  repeated. 

"  No,  no,  no  !  He  shall  not  leave  this  house.  I  will  save 
him!  "  she  cried.  "Yes;  I  will  kill  any  one  who  lays  a 
finger  upon  him!  Why  will  you  not  save  him?"  she 
shrieked  aloud;  her  eyes  were  blazing,  her  hair  unbound. 
"  Can  you  save  him  ?  " 

"I  can  do  everything." 

"  Why  do  you  not  save  him  ?  " 

"Why?"  shouted  Castanier,  and  his  voice  made  the  ceil- 
ing ring.  "  Eh  !  it  is  my  revenge  !  Doing  evil  is  my  trade  !  " 

"Die?"  said  Aquilina;  "must  he  die,  my  lover.  Is  it 
possible  ? ' ' 

She  sprang  up  and  snatched  a  stiletto  from  a  basket  that 
stood  on  the  chest  of  drawers  and  went  to  Castanier,  who 
began  to  laugh. 

"  You  know  very  well  that  steel  cannot  hurt  me  now — 

Aquilina's  arm  suddenly  dropped  like  a  snapped  harp  string. 

"  Out  with  you,  my  good  friend,"  said  the  cashier,  turning 
to  the  sergeant,  "  and  go  about  your  business." 

He  held  out  his  hand ;  the  other  felt  Castanier's  superior 
power,  and  could  not  choose  but  obey. 

"This  house  is  mine.  I  could  send  for  the  commissary  of 
police  if  I  chose,  and  give  you  up  as  a  man  who  has  hidden 
himself  on  my  premises,  but  I  would  rather  let  you  go ;  I  am 
a  fiend,  I  am  not  a  spy." 

"  I  shall  follow  him  !  "  said  Aquilina. 

"Then  follow  him,"  returned  Castanier.     "Here,  Jenny 


Jenny  appeared. 

"Tell  the  porter  to  hail  a  cab  for  them.     Here,  Naqui," 
said    Castanier,    drawing  a  bundle  of  bank-notes   from   his 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  311 

pocket;  "you  shall  not  go  away  like  a  pauper  from  a  man 
who  loves  you  still." 

He  held  out  three  hundred  thousand  francs.  Aquilina 
took  the  notes,  flung  them  on  the  floor,  spat  on  them,  and 
trampled  upon  them  in  a  frenzy  of  despair. 

"We  will  leave  this  house  on  foot,"  she  cried,  •''  without  a 
farthing  of  your  money.  Jenny,  stay  where  you  are." 

"  Good-evening  !  "  answered  the  cashier,  as  he  gathered  up 
the. notes  again.  "I  have  come  back  from  my  journey. 
Jenny,"  he  added,  looking  at  the  bewildered  waiting-maid, 
"you  seem  to  me  to  be  a  good  sort  of  girl.  You  have  no 
mistress  now.  Come  here.  This  evening  you  shall  have  a 
master." 

Aquilina,  who  felt  safe  nowhere,  went  at  once  with  the 
sergeant  to  the  house  of  one  of  her  friends.  But  all  Leon's 
movements  were  suspiciously  watched  by  the  police,  and  after 
a  time  he  and  three  of  his  friends  were  arrested.  The  whole 
story  may  be  found  in  the  newspapers  of  that  day. 

Castanier  felt  that  he  had  undergone  a  mental  as  well  as  a 
physical  transformation.  The  Castanier  of  old  no  longer 
existed — the  boy,  the  young  Lothario,  the  soldier  who  had 
proved  his  courage,  who  had  been  tricked  into  a  marriage 
and  disillusioned,  the  cashier,  the  passionate  lover  who  had 
committed  a  crime  for  Aquilina's  sake.  His  inmost  nature 
had  suddenly  asserted  itself.  His  brain  had  expanded,  his 
senses  had  developed.  His  thoughts  comprehended  the  whole 
world ;  he  saw  all  the  things  of  earth  as  if  he  had  been  raised 
to  some  high  pinnacle  above  the  world. 

Until  that  evening  at  the  play  he  had  loved  Aquilina  to 
distraction.  Rather  than  give  her  up  he  would  have  shut  his 
eyes  to  her  infidelities ;  and  now  all  that  blind  passion  had 
passed  away  as  a  cloud  vanishes  in  the  sunlight. 

Jenny  was  delighted  to  succeed  to  her  mistress'  position 
and  fortune,  and  did  the  cashier's  will  in  all  things ;  but 


312  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

Castanier,  who  could  read  the  inmost  thoughts  of  the  soul, 
discovered  the  real  motive  underlying  this  purely  physical 
devotion.  He  amused  himself  with  her,  however,  like  a  mis- 
chievous child  who  greedily  sucks  the  juice  of  the  cherry  and 
flings  away  the  stone.  The  next  morning  at  breakfast-time, 
when  she  was  fully  convinced  that  she  was  a  lady  and  the 
mistress  of  the  house,  Castanier  uttered  one  by  one  the  thoughts 
that  filled  her  mind  as  she  drank  her  coffee. 

"Do  you  know  what  you  are  thinking,  child?"  he  said, 
smiling,  "  I  will  tell  you:  'So  all  that  lovely  rosewood  fur- 
niture that  I  coveted  so  much,  and  the  pretty  dresses  that  I 
used  to  try  on,  are  mine  now  !  All  on  easy  terms  that  madame 
refused,  I  do  not  know  why.  My  word  !  if  I  might  drive 
about  in  a  carriage,  have  jewels  and  pretty  things,  a  box  at  the 
theatre,  and  put  something  by  !  with  me  he  should  lead  a  life 
of  pleasure  fit  to  kill  him  if  he  were  not  as  strong  as  a  Turk  ! 
I  never  saw  such  a  man  ! '  Was  not  that  just  what  you  were 
thinking,"  he  went  on,  and  something  in  his  voice  made 
Jenny  turn  pale.  "Well,  yes,  child  ;  you  could  not  stand  it, 
and  I  am  sending  you  away  for  your  own  good ;  you  would 
perish  in  the  attempt.  Come,  let  us  part  good  friends,"  and 
he  coolly  dismissed  her  with  a  very  small  sum  of  money. 

The  first  use  that  Castanier  had  promised  himself  that  he 
would  make  of  the  terrible  power  bought  at  the  price  of  his 
eternal  happiness  was  the  full  and  complete  indulgence  of  all 
his  tastes. 

He  first  put  his  affairs  in  order,  readily  settled  his  account 
with  M.  de  Nucingen,  who  found  a  worthy  German  to  suc- 
ceed him,  and  then  determined  on  a  carouse  worthy  of  the 
palmiest  days  of  the  Roman  Empire.  He  plunged  into  dis- 
sipation as  recklessly  as  Belshazzar  of  old  went  to  that  last  feast 
in  Babylon.  Like  Belshazzar,  he  saw  clearly  through  his  revels 
a  gleaming  hand  that  traced  his  doom  in  letters  of  flame,  not 
on  the  narrow  walls  of  the  banqueting-chamber,  but  over  the 
vast  spaces  of  heaven  that  the  rainbow  spans.  His  feast  was 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  313 

not,  indeed,  an  orgy  confined  within  the  limits  of  a  banquet, 
for  he  squandered  all  the  powers  of  soul  and  body  in  exhaust- 
ing all  the  pleasures  of  earth.  The  table  was  in  some  sort 
earth  itself,  the  earth  that  trembled  beneath  his  feet.  His  was 
the  last  festival  of  the  reckless  spendthrift  who  has  thrown  all 
prudence  to  the  winds.  The  devil  had  given  him  the  key  of 
the  storehouse  of  human  pleasures ;  he  had  filled  and  refilled 
his  hands,  and  he  was  fast  nearing  the  bottom.  In  a  moment 
he  had  felt  all  that  that  enormous  power  could  accomplish  ;  in 
a  moment  he  had  exercised  it,  proved  it,  wearied  of  it.  What 
had  hitherto  been  the  sum  of  human  desires  became  as  nothing. 
So  often  it  happens  that  with  possession  the  vast  poetry  of  de- 
sire must  end,  and  the  thing  possessed  is  seldom  the  thing  that 
we  dreamed  of. 

Beneath  Melmoth's  omnipotence  lurked  this  tragical  anti- 
climax of  so  many  a  passion,  and  now  the  inanity  of  human 
nature  was  revealed  to  his  successor,  to  whom  infinite  power 
brought  nothingness  as  a  dowry. 

To  come  to  a  clear  understanding  of  Castanier's  strange 
position,  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  how  suddenly  these  revolu- 
tions of  thought  and  feeling  had  been  wrought ;  how  quickly 
they  had  succeeded  each  other ;  and  of  these  things  it  is  hard 
to  give  any  idea  to  those  who  have  never  broken  the  prison 
bonds  of  time,  and  space,  and  distance.  His  relation  to  the 
world  without  had  been  entirely  changed  with  the  expansion 
of  his  faculties. 

Like  Melmoth  himself,  Castanier  could  travel  in  a  few  mo- 
ments over  the  fertile  plains  of  India,  could  soar  on  the  wings 
of  demons  above  African  desert  spaces,  or  skim  the  surface  of 
the  seas.  The  same  insight  that  could  read  the  inmost  thoughts 
of  others  could  apprehend  at  a  glance  the  nature  of  any  ma- 
terial object,  just  as  he  caught  as  it  were  all  flavors  at  once 
upon  his  tongue.  He  took  his  pleasure  like  a  despot ;  a  blow 
of  the  axe  felled  the  tree  that  he  might  eat  its  fruits.  The 
transitions,  the  alternations  that  measure  joy  and  pain,  and 


314  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

diversify  human  happiness,  no  longer  existed  for  him.  He  had 
so  completely  glutted  his  appetites  that  pleasure  must  overpass 
the  limits  of  pleasure  to  tickle  a  palate  cloyed  with  satiety,  and 
suddenly  grown  fastidious  beyond  all  measure,  so  that  ordinary 
pleasures  became  distasteful.  Conscious  that  at  will  he  was 
the  master  of  all  the  women  that  he  could  desire,  knowing 
that  his  power  was  irresistible,  he  did  not  care  to  exercise  it ; 
they  were  pliant  to  his  unexpressed  wishes,  to  his  most  extrava- 
gant caprices,  until  he  felt  a  horrible  thirst  for  love,  and  would 
have  love  beyond  their  power  to  give. 

The  world  refused  him  nothing  save  faith  and  prayer,  the 
soothing  and  consoling  love  that  is  not  of  this  world.  He 
was  obeyed — it  was  a  horrible  position. 

The  torrents  of  pain,  and  pleasure,  and  thought  that  shook 
his  soul  and  his  bodily  frame  would  have  overwhelmed  the 
strongest  human  being ;  but  in  him  there  was  a  power  of 
vitality  proportioned  to  the  power  of  the  sensations  that 
assailed  him.  He  felt  within  him  a  vague  immensity  of  long- 
ing that  earth  could  not  satisfy.  He  spent  his  days  on  out- 
spread wings,  longing  to  traverse  the  luminous  fields  of  space 
to  other  spheres  that  he  knew  afar  by  intuitive  perception,  a 
clear  and  hopeless  knowledge.  His  soul  dried  up  within  him, 
for  he  hungered  and  thirsted  after  things  that  can  neither  be 
drunk  nor  eaten,  but  for  which  he  could  not  choose  but  crave. 
His  lips,  like  Melmoth's,  burned  with  desire ;  he  panted  for 
the  unknown,  for  he  knew  all  things. 

The  mechanism  and  the  scheme  of  the  world  was  apparent 
to  him,  and  its  working  interested  him  no  longer;  he  did  not 
long  disguise  the  profound  scorn  that  makes  of  a  man  of 
extraordinary  powers  a  sphinx  who  knows  everything  and  says 
nothing,  and  sees  all  things  with  an  unmoved  countenance. 
He  felt  not  the  slightest  wish  to  communicate  his  knowledge 
to  other  men.  He  was  rich  with  all  the  wealth  of  the  world, 
with  one  effort  he  could  make  the  circle  of  the  globe,  and 
riches  and  power  were  meaningless  for  him.  He  felt  the 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  315 

awful  melancholy  of  omnipotence,  a  melancholy  which 
Satan  and  God  relieve  by  the  exercise  of  infinite  power 
in  mysterious  ways  known  to  them  alone.  Castanier  had 
not,  like  his  master,  the  inextinguishable  energy  of  hate 
and  malice ;  he  felt  that  he  was  a  devil,  but  a  devil 
whose  time  was  not  yet  come,  while  Satan  is  a  devil 
through  all  eternity,  and  being  damned  beyond  redemption 
delights  to  stir  up  the  world,  like  a  dung-heap,  with  his 
triple  fork  and  to  thwart  therein  the  designs  of  God.  But 
Castanier,  for  his  misfortune,  had  one  hope  left. 

If  in  a  moment  he  could  move  from  one  pole  to  the  other 
as  a  bird  springs  restlessly  from  side  to  side  in  its  cage,  when, 
like  the  bird,  he  had  crossed  his  prison,  he  saw  the  vast  im- 
mensity of  space  beyond  it.  That  vision  of  the  Infinite  left 
him  for  ever  unable  to  see  humanity  and  its  affairs  as  other 
men  saw  them.  The  insensate  fools  who  long  for  the  power 
of  the  devil  gauge  its  desirability  from  a  human  standpoint ; 
they  do  not  see  that  with  the  devil's  power  they  will  likewise 
assume  his  thoughts,  and  that  they  will  be  doomed  to  remain 
as  men  among  creatures  who  will  no  longer  understand  them. 
The  Nero  unknown  to  history  who  dreams  of  setting  Paris  on 
fire  for  his  private  entertainment,  like  an  exhibition  of  a 
burning  house  on  the  boards  of  a  theatre,  does  not  suspect 
that,  if  he  had  that  power,  Paris  would  become  for  him  as  little 
interesting  as  an  ant-heap  by  the  roadside  to  a  hurrying 
passer-by.  The  circle  of  the  sciences  was  for  Castanier 
something  like  a  logogriph  for  a  man  who  does  not  know  the 
key  to  it.  Kings  and  governments  were  despicable  in  his 
eyes.  His  great  debauch  had  been  in  some  sort  a  deplorable 
farewell  to  his  life  as  a  man.  The  earth  had  grown  too  nar- 
row for  him,  for  the  infernal  gifts  laid  bare  for  him  the  secrets 
of  creation — he  saw  the  cause  and  foresaw  its  end.  He  was 
shut  out  from  all  .that  men  call  "heaven"  in  all  languages 
under  the  sun ;  he  could  no  longer  think  of  heaven. 

Then  he  came  to  understand  the  look  on  his  predecessor's 


316  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

face  and  the  drying  up  of  the  life  within  ;  then  he  knew  all 
that  was  meant  by  the  baffled  hope  that  gleamed  in  Melmoth's 
eyes ;  he,  too,  knew  the  thirst  that  burned  those  red  lips,  and 
the  agony  of  a  continual  struggle  between  two  natures  grown 
to  giant  size.  Even  yet  he  might  be  an  angel,  and  he  knew 
himself  to  be  a  fiend.  His  was  the  fate  of  a  sweet  and  gentle 
creature  that  a  wizard's  malice  has  imprisoned  in  a  misshapen 
form,  entrapping  it  by  a  pact,  so  that  another's  will  must  set 
it  free  from  its  detested  envelope. 

As  a  deception  only  increases  the  ardor  with  which  a  man 
of  really  great  nature  explores  the  infinite  of  sentiment  in  a 
woman's  heart,  so  Castanier  awoke  to  find  that  one  idea  lay 
like  a  weight  upon  his  soul,  an  idea  which  was  perhaps  the 
key  to  loftier  spheres.  The  very  fact  that  he  had  bartered 
away  his  eternal  happiness  led  him  to  dwell  in  thought  upon 
the  future  of  those  who  pray  and  believe.  On  the  morrow  of 
his  debauch,  when  he  entered  into  the  sober  possession  of  his 
power,  this  idea  made  him  feel  himself  a  prisoner ;  lie  knew 
the  burden  of  the  woe  that  poets,  and  prophets,  and  great 
oracles  of  faith  have  set  forth  for  us  in  such  mighty  words  ; 
he  felt  the  point  of  the  flaming  sword  plunged  into  his  side, 
and  hurried  in  search  of  Melmoth.  What  had  become  of  his 
predecessor  ? 

The  Englishman  was  living  in  a  mansion  in  the  Rue  Ferou, 
near  Saint-Sulpice — a  gloomy,  dark,  damp,  and  cold  abode. 
The  Rue  F£rou  itself  is  one  of  the  most  dismal  streets  in 
Paris;  it  has  a  rorth  aspect  like  all  the  streets  that  lie  at  right 
angles  to  the  left  bank  of  the  Seine,  and  the  houses  are  in 
keeping  with  the  site.  As  Castanier  stood  on  the  threshold 
he  found  that  the  door  itself,  like  the  vaulted  roof,  was 
hung  with  black;  rows  of  lighted  tapers  shone  brilliantly 
as  though  some  king  were  lying  in  state  ;  and  a  priest  stood 
on  either  side  of  a  catafalque  that  had  been  raised  there. 

"  There  is  no  need  to  ask  why  you  have  come,  sir,"  the 
old  hall  porter  said  to  Castanier  ;  "  you  are  so  like  our  poor 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  317 

dear  master  that  is  gone.  But  if  you  are  his  brother,  you 
have  come  too  late  to  bid  him  good-bye.  The  good  gentle- 
man died  the  night  before  last." 

"  How  did  he  die  ?  "  Castanier  asked  of  one  of  the  priests. 

"Set  your  mind  at  rest,"  said  an  old  priest;  he  partly 
raised  as  he  spoke  the  black  pall  that  covered  the  catafalque. 

Castanier,  looking  at  him,  saw  one  of  those  faces  that 
faith  has  made  sublime ;  the  soul  seemed  to  shine  forth  from 
every  line  of  it,  bringing  light  and  warmth  for  other  men, 
kindled  by  the  unfailing  charity  within.  This  was  Sir  John 
Melmoth's  confessor. 

"  Your  brother  made  an  end  that  men  may  envy,  and  that 
must  rejoice  the  angels.  Do  you  know  what  joy  there  is  in 
heaven  over  a  sinner  that  repents  ?  His  tears  of  penitence, 
excited  by  grace,  flowed  without  ceasing  ;  death  alone  checked 
them.  The  Holy  Spirit  dwelt  in  him.  His  burning  words, 
full  of  lively  faith,  were  worthy  of  the  Prophet-King.  If, 
in  the  course  of  my  life,  I  have  never  heard  a  more  dread- 
ful confession  than  from  the  lips  of  this  English  gentleman,  I 
have  likewise  never  heard  such  fervent  and  passionate  prayers. 
However  great  the  measures  of  his  sins  may  have  been,  his 
repentance  has  filled  the  abyss  to  overflowing.  The  hand  of 
God  was  visibly  stretched  out  above  him,  for  he  was  com- 
pletely changed,  there  was  such  heavenly  beauty  in  his  face. 
The  hard  eyes  were  softened  by  tears  ;  the  resonant  voice  that 
struck  terror  into  those  who  heard  it  took  the  tender  and  com- 
passionate tones  of  those  who  themselves  have  passed  through 
deep  humiliation.  He  so  edified  those  who  heard  his  words 
that  some  who  had  felt  drawn  to  see  the  spectacle  of  a  Chris- 
tian's death  fell  on  their  knees  as  he  spoke  of  heavenly  things, 
and  of  the  infinite  glory  of  God,  and  gave  thanks  and  praise 
to  Him.  If  he  is  leaving  no  worldly  wealth  to  his  family, 
no  family  can  possess  a  greater  blessing  than  this  that  he 
surely  gained  for  them,  a  soul  among  the  blessed,  who  will 
watch  over  you  all  and  direct  you  in  the  path  to  heaven." 


318  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

These  words  made  such  a  vivid  impression  upon  Castanier 
that  he  instantly  hurried  from  the  house  to  the  Church  of 
Saint-Sulpice,  obeying  what  might  be  called  a  decree  of  fate. 
Melmoth's  repentance  had  stupefied  him. 

At  that  time,  on  certain  mornings  in  the  week,  a  preacher, 
famed  for  his  eloquence,  was  wont  to  hold  conferences,  in  the 
course  of  which  he  demonstrated  the  truths  of  the  Catholic 
faith  for  the  youth  of  a  generation  proclaimed  to  be  indiffer- 
ent in  matters  of  belief  by  another  voice  no  less  eloquent 
than  his  own.  The  conference  had  been  put  off  to  a  later  hour 
on  account  of  Melmoth's  funeral,  so  Castanier  arrived  just  as  the 
great  preacher  was  epitomizing  the  proofs  of  a  future  existence 
of  happiness  with  all  the  charm  of  eloquence  and  force  of  expres- 
sion which  have  made  him  famous.  The  seeds  of  divine  doctrine 
fell  into  a  soil  prepared  for  them  in  the  old  dragoon,  into  whom 
the  devil  had  glided.  Indeed,  if  there  is  a  phenomenon  well 
attested  by  experience,  is  it  not  the  spiritual  phenomenon 
commonly  called  the  "  faith  of  the  peasant?"  The  strength 
of  belief  varies  inversely  with  the  amount  of  use  that  a  man 
has  made  of  his  reasoning  faculties.  Simple  people  and  soldiers 
belong  to  the  unreasoning  class.  Those  who  have  marched 
through  life  beneath  the  banner  of  instinct  are  far  more  ready 
to  receive  the  light  than  minds  and  hearts  overwearied  with  the 
world's  sophistries. 

Castanier  had  a  southern  temperament ;  he  had  joined  the 
army  as  a  lad  of  sixteen,  and  had  followed  the  French  flag 
till  he  was  nearly  forty  years  old.  As  a  common  trooper,  he 
had  fought  day  and  night,  and  day  after  day,  and,  as  in  duty 
bound,  had  thought  of  his  horse  first,  and  of  himself  after- 
wards. While  he  served  his  military  apprenticeship,  there- 
fore, he  had  but  little  leisure  in  which  to  reflect  on  the  destiny 
of  man,  and  when  he  became  an  officer  he  had  his  men  to 
think  of.  He  had  been  swept  from  battlefield  to  battlefield, 
but  he  had  never  thought  of  what  comes  after  death.  A 
soldier's  life  does  not  demand  much  thinking.  Those  who 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  319 

cannot  understand  the  lofty  political  ends  involved  and  the 
interests  of  nation  and  nation  ;  who  cannot  grasp  political 
schemes  as  well  as  plans  of  campaign,  and  combine  the  science 
of  the  tactician  with  that  of  the  administrator,  are  bound  to 
live  in  a  state  of  ignorance ;  the  most  boorish  peasant  in  the 
most  backward  district  in  France  is  scarcely  in  a  worse 
case.  Such  men  as  these  bear  the  brunt  of  war,  yield  passive 
obedience  to  the  brain  that  directs  them,  and  strike  down  the 
men  opposed  to  them  as  the  woodcutter  fells  timber  in  the 
forest.  Violent  physical  exertion  is  succeeded  by  times  of 
inertia,  when  they  repair  the  waste.  They  fight  and  drink, 
fight  and  eat,  fight  and  sleep,  that  they  may  the  better  deal 
hard  blows ;  the  powers  of  the  mind  are  not  greatly  exercised 
in  this  turbulent  round  of  existence,  and  the  character  is  as 
simple  as  heretofore. 

When  the  men  who  have  shown  such  energy  on  the  battle- 
field return  to  ordinary  civilization,  most  of  those  who  have 
not  risen  to  high  rank  seem  to  have  acquired  no  ideas,  and  to 
have  no  aptitude,  no  capacity,  for  grasping  new  ideas.  To 
the  utter  amazement  of  a  younger  generation,  those  who  made 
our  armies  so  glorious  and  so  terrible  are  as  simple  as  children, 
and  as  slow-witted  as  a  clerk  at  his  worst,  and  the  captain  of 
a  thundering  squadron  is  scarcely  fit  to  keep  a  merchant's 
day-book.  Old  soldiers  of  this  stamp,  therefore,  being  inno- 
cent of  any  attempt  to  use  their  reasoning  faculties,  act  upon 
their  strongest  impulses.  Castanier's  crime  was  one  of  those 
matters  that  raise  so  many  questions,  that,  in  order  to  debate 
about  it,  a  moralist  might  call  for  its  "  discussion  by  clauses," 
to  make  use  of  a  parliamentary  expression. 

Passion  had  counseled  the  crime;  the  cruelly  irresistible 
power  of  feminine  witchery  had  driven  him  to  commit  it;  no 
man  can  say  of  himself,  "I  will  never  do  that,"  when  a  siren 
joins  in  the  combat  and  throws  her  spells  over  him. 

So  the  word  of  life  fell  upon  a  conscience  newly  awakened 
to  the  truths  of  religion  which  the  French  Revolution  and  a 


320  MEL  MOTH  RECONCILED. 

soldier's  career  had  forced  Castanier  to  neglect.  The  solemn 
words,  "You  will  be  happy  or  miserable  for  all  eternity!" 
made  but  the  more  terrible  impression  upon  him,  because  he 
had  exhausted  earth  and  shaken  it  like  a  barren  tree ;  because 
his  desires  could  effect  all  things,  so  that  it  was  enough  that 
any  spot  in  earth  or  heaven  should  be  forbidden  him,  and  he 
forthwith  thought  of  nothing  else.  If  it  were  allowable  to 
compare  such  great  things  with  social  follies,  Castanier's  po- 
sition was  not  unlike  that  of  a  banker  who,  finding  that  his 
all-powerful  millions  cannot  obtain  for  him  an  entrance  into 
the  society  of  the  noblesse,  must  set  his  heart  upon  entering 
that  circle,  and  all  the  social  privileges  that  he  has  already 
acquired  are  as  nothing  in  his  eyes  from  the  moment  wiien  he 
discovers  that  a  single  one  is  lacking. 

Here  was  a  man  more  powerful  than  all  the  kings  on  earth 
put  together ;  a  man  who,  like  Satan,  could  wrestle  with  God 
Himself;  leaning  against  one  of  the  pillars  in  the  Church  of 
Saint-Sulpice,  weighed  down  by  the  feelings  and  thoughts  that 
oppressed  him,  and  absorbed  in  the  thought  of  a  future,  the 
same  thought  that  had  engulfed  Melmoth. 

"He  was  very  happy,  was  Melmoth!"  cried  Castanier. 
"  He  died  in  the  certain  knowledge  that  he  would  go  to 
heaven." 

In  a  moment  the  greatest  possible  change  had  been  wrought 
in  the  cashier's  ideas.  For  several  days  he  had  been  a  devil, 
now  he  was  nothing  but  a  man  ;  an  image  of  the  fallen  Adam, 
of  the  sacred  tradition  embodied  in  all  cosmogonies.  But 
while  he  had  thus  shrunk  to  man's  estate  he  retained  a  germ 
of  greatness,  he  had  been  steeped  in  the  Infinite.  The  power 
of  hell  had  revealed  the  divine  power.  He  thirsted  for  heaven 
as  he  had  never  thirsted  after  the  pleasures  of  earth,  that  are 
so  soon  exhausted.  The  enjoyments  which  the  fiend  promises 
are  but  the  enjoyments  of  earth  on  a  larger  scale,  but  to  the 
joys  of  heaven  there  is  no  limit.  He  believed  in  God,  and 
the  spell  that  gave  him  the  treasures  of  the  world  was  as 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  321 

nothing  to  him  now  ;  the  treasures  themselves  seemed  to  him 
as  contemptible  as  pebbles  to  an  admirer  of  diamonds ;  they 
were  but  gewgaws  compared  with  the  eternal  glories  of  the 
other  life.  A  curse  lay,  he  thought,  on  all  things  that  came 
to  him  from  this  source.  He  sounded  dark  depths  of  painful 
thought  as  he  listened  to  the  service  performed  for  Melmoth. 
The  Dies  ires  filled  him  with  awe;  he  felt  all  the  grandeur  of 
that  cry  of  a  repentant  soul  trembling  before  the  throne  of 
God.  The  Holy  Spirit,  like  a  devouring  flame,  passed  through 
him  as  fire  consumes  straw. 

The  tears  were  falling  from  his  eyes  when — "  Are  you  a  re- 
lation of  the  dead?"  the  beadle  asked  him. 

"  I  am  his  heir,"  Castanier  answered. 

"  Give  something  for  the  expenses  of  the  services !  "  cried 
the  man. 

"  No,"  said  the  cashier.  (The  devil's  money  should  not  go 
to  the  church.) 

"For  the  poor!  " 

"No." 

"  For  repairing  the  church  !  " 

"No." 

"  The  Lady  Chapel !  " 

"  No." 

"  For  the  schools  !  " 

"No." 

Castanier  went,  not  caring  to  expose  himself  to  the  sour 
looks  that  the  irritated  functionaries  gave  him. 

Outside,  in  the  street,  he  looked  up  at  the  Church  of 
Saint-Sulpice.  "  What  made  people  build  the  giant  cathe- 
drals I  have  seen  in  every  country  ?  "  he  asked  himself.  "  The 
feeling  shared  so  widely  throughout  all  time  must  surely  be 
based  upon  something." 

"Something!  Do  you  call  God  something?''1  cried  his 
conscience.  "  God  !  God  !  God  ! " 

The  word  was  echoed  and  re-echoed  by  an  inner  voice,  till 
21 


322  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

it  overwhelmed  him ;  but  his  feeling  of  terror  subsided  as  he 
heard  sweet  distant  sounds  of  music  that  he  had  caught  faintly 
before.  They  were  singing  in  the  church,  he  thought,  and 
his  eyes  scanned  the  great  doorway.  But  as  he  listened  more 
closely,  the  sounds  poured  upon  him  from  all  sides;  he 
looked  round  the  square,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  any  musi- 
cians. The  melody  brought  visions  of  a  distant  heaven  and 
far-off  gleams  of  hope ;  but  it  also  quickened  the  remorse  that 
had  set  the  lost  soul  in  a  ferment.  He  went  on  his  way 
through  Paris,  walking  as  men  walk  who  are  crushed  beneath 
the  burden  of  their  sorrow,  seeing  everything  with  unseeing 
eyes,  loitering  like  an  idler,  stopping  without  cause,  mutter- 
ing to  himself,  careless  of  the  traffic,  making  no  effort  to 
avoid  a  blow  from  a  plank  of  timber. 

Imperceptibly  repentance  brought  him  under  the  influence 
of  the  divine  grace  that  soothes  while  it  bruises  the  heart  so 
terribly.  His  face  came  to  wear  a  look  of  Melmoth,  some- 
thing great,  with  a  trace  of  madness  in  the  greatness.  A 
look  of  dull  and  hopeless  distress,  mingled  with  the  excited 
eagerness  of  hope,  and,  beneath  it  all,  a  gnawing  sense  of 
loathing  for  all  that  the  world  can  give.  The  humblest  of 
prayers  lurked  in  the  eyes  that  saw  with  such  dreadful  clear- 
ness. His  power  was  the  measure  of  his  anguish.  His  body 
was  bowed  down  by  the  fearful  storm  that  shook  his  soul,  as 
the  tall  pines  bend  before  the  blast.  Like  his  predecessor,  he 
could  not  refuse  to  bear  the  burden  of  life  ;  he  was  afraid  to  die 
while  he  bore  the  yoke  of  hell.  The  torment  grew  intolerable. 
At  last,  one  morning,  he  bethought  himself  how  that  Mel- 
moth  (now  among  the  blessed)  had  made  the  proposal  of  an 
exchange,  and  how  that  he  had  accepted  it ;  others,  doubt- 
less, would  follow  his  example ;  for  in  an  age  proclaimed,  by 
the  inheritors  of  the  eloquence  of  the  Fathers  of  the  Church, 
to  be  fatally  indifferent  to  religion,  it  should  be  easy  to  find  a 
man  who  would  accept  the  conditions  of  the  contract  in  order 
to  prove  its  advantages. 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  323 

"  There  is  one  place  where  you  can  learn  what  kings  will 
fetch  in  the  market ;  where  nations  are  weighed  in  the  balance 
and  systems  appraised ;  where  the  value  of  a  government  is 
stated  in  terms  of  the  five-franc  piece ;  where  ideas  and 
beliefs  have  their  price,  and  everything  is  discounted ;  where 
God  Himself,  in  a  manner,  borrows  on  the  security  of  His 
revenue  of  souls,  for  the  Pope  has  a  running  account  there. 
Is  it  not  there  that  I  should  go  to  traffic  in  souls  ?  " 

Castanier  went  quite  joyously  on  'Change,  thinking  that  it 
would  be  as  easy  to  buy  a  soul  as  to  invest  money  in  the 
"  Funds."  Any  ordinary  person  would  have  feared  ridicule, 
but  Castanier  knew  by  experience  .that  a  desperate  man  takes 
everything  seriously.  A  prisoner  lying  under  sentence  of 
death  would  listen  to  the  madman  who  should  tell  him  that 
by  pronouncing  some  gibberish  he  could  escape  through  the 
keyhole ;  for  suffering  is  credulous,  and  clings  to  an  idea  until 
it  fails,  as  the  swimmer  borne  along  by  the  current  clings  to 
the  branch  that  snaps  in  his  hand. 

Towards  four  o'clock  that  afternoon  Castanier  appeared 
among  the  little  knots  of  men  who  were  transacting  private 
business  after  'Change.  He  was  personally  known  to  some  of 
the  brokers;  and  while  affecting  to  be  in  search  of  an 
acquaintance,  he  managed  to  pick  up  the  current  gossip  and 
rumors  of  failure. 

"  Catch  me  negotiating  bills  for  Claparon  &  Co.,  my  boy. 
The  bank  collector  went  round  to  return  their  acceptances  to 
them  this  morning,"  said  a  fat  banker  in  his  outspoken  way. 
"  If  you  have  any  of  their  paper,  lookout !  " 

Claparon  was  in  the  building,  in  deep  consultation  with  a 
man  well  known  for  the  ruinous  rate  at  which  he  loaned  money. 
Castanier  went  forthwith  in  search  of  the  said  Claparon,  a 
merchant  who  had  a  reputation  for  taking  heavy  risks  that 
meant  wealth  or  utter  ruin.  The  money-lender  walked  away 
as  Castanier  came  up.  A  gesture  betrayed  the  speculator's 
despair. 


324  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

"  Well,  Claparon,  the  bank  wants  a  hundred  thousand  francs 
of  you,  and  it  is  four  o'clock ;  the  thing  is  known,  and  it  is 
too  late  to  arrange  your  little  failure  comfortably,"  said  Cas- 
tanier. 

"Sir!" 

"  Speak  lower,"  the  cashier  went  on.  "  How  if  I  were  to 
propose  a  piece  of  business  that  would  bring  you  in  as  much 
money  as  you  require  ?  " 

"  It  would  not  discharge  my  liabilities ;  every  business  that 
I  ever  heard  of  wants  a  little  time  to  simmer  in." 

"  I  know  of  something  that  will  set  you  straight  in  a  mo- 
ment," answered  Castanier ;  "  but  first  you  would  have  to " 

"Do  what?" 

"  Sell  your  share  of  paradise.  It  is  a  matter  of  business  like 
anything  else,  isn't  it  ?  We  all  hold  shares  in  the  great  specu- 
lation of  eternity." 

"  I  tell  you  this,"  said  Claparon  angrily,  "  that  I  am  just 
the  man  to  lend  you  a  slap  in  the  face.  When  a  man  is  in 
trouble,  it  is  no  time  to  play  silly  jokes  on  him." 

"I  am  talking  seriously,"  said  Castanier,  and  he  drew  a 
bundle  of  notes  from  his  pocket. 

"  In  the  first  place,"  said  Claparon,  "  I  am  not  going  to 
sell  my  soul  to  the  devil  for  a  trifle.  I  want  five  hundred  thou- 
sand francs  before  I  strike ' ' 

"Who  talks  of  stinting  you?"  asked  Castanier,  cutting 
him  short.  "You  should  have  more  gold  than  you  could 
stow  in  the  cellars  of  the  Bank  of  France." 

He  held  out  a  handful  of  notes.  That  decided  Claparon. 
"  Done,"  he  cried  ;  "  but  how  is  the  bargain  to  be  made  ?  " 

"  Let  us  go  over  yonder,  no  one  is  standing  there,"  said 
Castanier,  pointing  to  a  corner  of  the  court. 

Claparon  and  his  tempter  exchanged  a  few  words,  with  their 
faces  turned  to  the  wall.  None  of  the  onlookers  guessed  the 
nature  of  this  by-play,  though  their  curiosity  was  keenly  ex- 
cited by  the  strange  gestures  of  the  two  contracting  parties. 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  325 

When  Castanier  returned,  there  was  a  sudden  outburst  of 
amazed  exclamation.  As  in  the  assembly  where  the  least 
event  immediately  attracts  attention,  all  faces  were  turned  to 
the  two  men  who  had  caused  the  sensation,  and  a  shiver 
passed  through  all  beholders  at  the  change  that  had  taken 
place  in  them. 

The  men  who  form  the  moving  crowd  that  fills  the  Stock 
Exchange  are  soon  known  to  each  other  by  sight.  They 
watch  each  other  like  players  round  a  card-table.  Some 
shrewd  observers  can  tell  how  a  man  will  play  and  the  condi- 
tion of  his  exchequer  from  a  survey  of  his  face  ;  and  the  Stock 
Exchange  is  simply  a  vast  card-table.  Every  one,  therefore, 
had  noticed  Claparon  and  Castanier.  The  latter  (like  the 
Englishman  before  him)  had  been  muscular  and  powerful,  his 
eyes  were  full  of  light,  his  color  high.  The  dignity  and 
power  in  his  face  had  struck  awe  into  them  all ;  they  won- 
dered how  old  Castanier  had  come  by  it ;  and  now  they  beheld 
Castanier  divested  of  his  power,  shrunken,  wrinkled,  aged,  and 
feeble.  He  had  drawn  Claparon  out  of  the  crowd  with  the 
energy  of  a  sick  man  in  a  fever  fit ;  he  had  looked  like  an 
opium-eater  during  the  brief  period  of  excitement  that  the  drug 
can  give  ;  now,  on  his  return,  he  seemed  to  be  in  the  condi- 
tion of  utter  exhaustion  in  which  the  patient  dies  after  the 
fever  departs,  or  to  be  suffering  from  the  horrible  prostration 
that  follows  an  excessive  indulgence  in  the  delights  of  nar- 
cotics. The  infernal  power  that  had  upheld  him  through  his 
debauches  had  left  him,  and  the  body  was  left  unaided  and 
alone  to  endure  the  agony  of  remorse  and  the  heavy  burden 
of  sincere  repentance.  Claparon's  troubles  every  one  could 
guess ;  but  Claparon  reappeared,  on  the  other  hand,  with 
sparkling  eyes,  holding  his  head  high  with  the  pride  of  Lu- 
cifer. The  crisis  had  passed  from  the  one  man  to  the  other. 

"Now  you  can  drop  off  with  an  easy  mind,  old  man," 
said  Claparon  to  Castanier. 

"  For  pity's  sake,  send  for  a  cab  and  for  a  priest ',  send  for 


326  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

the  curate  of  Saint-Sulpice  !  "  answered  the  old  dragoon, 
sinking  down  upon  the  curbstone. 

The  words  "  a  priest  "  reached  the  ears  of  several  people, 
and  produced  uproarious  jeering  among  the  stockbrokers,  for 
faith  with  these  gentlemen  means  a  belief  that  a  scrap  of 
paper  called  a  mortgage  represents  an  estate,  and  the  list  of 
fundholders  is  their  Bible. 

"  Shall  I  have  time  to  repent?"  said  Castanier  to  himself 
in  a  piteous  voice,  that  impressed  Claparon. 

A  cab  carried  away  the  dying  man ;  the  speculator  went  to 
the  bank  at  once  to  meet  his  bills ;  and  the  momentary  sensa- 
tion produced  upon  the  throng  of  business  men  by  the  sudden 
change  on  the  two  faces  vanished  like  the  furrow  cut  by  a 
ship's  keel  in  the  sea.  News  of  the  greatest  importance  kept 
the  attention  of  the  world  of  commerce  on  the  alert ;  and 
when  commercial  interests  are  at  stake,  Moses  might  appear 
with  his  two  luminous  horns,  and  his  coming  would  scarcely 
receive  the  honors  of  a  pun  ;  the  gentleman  whose  business  it 
is  to  write  the  market  reports  would  ignore  his  existence. 

When  Claparon  had  made  his  payments,  fear  seized  upon 
him.  There  was  no  mistake  about  his  power.  He  went  on 
'Change  again,  and  offered  his  bargain  to  other  men  in  em- 
barrassed circumstances.  The  devil's  bond,  "  together  with 
the  rights,  easements,  and  privileges  appertaining  thereunto" — 
to  use  the  expression  of  the  notary  who  succeeded  Claparon — 
changed  hands  for  the  sum  of  seven  hundred  thousand  francs. 
The  notary  in  his,  turn  parted  with  the  agreement  with  the 
devil  for  five  hundred  thousand  francs  to  a  building  con- 
tractor in  difficulties,  who  likewise  got  rid  of  it  to  an  iron 
merchant  in  consideration  of  a  hundred  thousand  crowns. 
In  fact,  by  five  o'clock  people  had  ceased  to  believe  in  the 
strange  contract,  and  purchasers  were  lacking  for  want  of 
confidence. 

At  half- past  five  the  holder  of  the  bond  was  a  house-painter, 
who  was  lounging  by  the  door  of  the  building  in  the  Rue 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  327 

Feydeau,  where  at  that  time  stockbrokers  temporarily  congre- 
gated. The  house-painter,  simple  fellow,  could  not  think 
what  was  the  matter  with  him.  He  "  felt  all  anyhow,"  so  he 
told  his  wife  when  he  went  home. 

The  Rue  Feydeau,  as  idlers  about  town  are  aware,  is  a 
place  of  pilgrimage  for  youths  who  for  lack  of  a  mistress 
bestow  their  ardent  affection  upon  the  whole  sex.  On  the 
first  floor  of  the  most  rigidly  respectable  domicile  therein 
dwelt  one  of  those  exquisite  creatures  whom  it  has  pleased 
heaven  to  endow  with  the  rarest  and  most  surpassing  beauty. 
As  it  is  impossible  that  they  should  all  be  duchesses  or 
queens  (since  there  are  many  more  pretty  women  in  the  world 
than  titles  and  thrones  for  them  to  adorn),  they  are  content 
to  make  a  stockbroker  or  a  banker  happy  at  a  fixed  price.  To 
this  good-natured  beauty,  Euphrasia  by  name,  an  unbounded 
ambition  had  led  a  notary's  clerk  to  aspire.  In  short,  the 
second  clerk  in  the  office  of  Maitre  Crottat,  notary,  had  fallen 
in  love  with  her,  as  youth  at  two-and-twenty  can  fall  in  love. 
The  scrivener  would  have  murdered  the  Pope  and  run  amuck 
through  the  whole  sacred  college  to  procure  the  miserable 
sum  of  a  hundred  louis  to  pay  for  a  shawl  which  had  turned 
Euphrasia's  head,  at  which  price  her  waiting-woman  had 
promised  that  Euphrasia  should  be  his.  The  infatuated  youth 
walked  to  and  fro  under  Madame  Euphrasia's  windows, 
like  the  polar  bears  in  their  cage  at  the  Jardin  des  Plantes, 
with  his  right  hand  thrust  beneath  his  waistcoat  in  the  region 
of  the  heart,  which  he  was  fit  to  tear  from  his  bosom,  but  as 
yet  he  had  only  wrenched  at  the  elastic  of  his  braces. 

"  What  can  one  do  to  raise  ten  thousand  francs?  "  he  asked 
himself.  "Shall  I  make  off  with  the  money  that  I  must  pay 
on  the  registration  of  that  conveyance  ?  Good  heavens  !  my 
loan  would  not  ruin  the  purchaser,  a  man  with  seven  millions  ! 
And  then  next  day  I  would  fling  myself  at  his  feet  and  say, 
'  I  have  taken  ten  thousand  francs  belonging  to  you,  sir ;  I 
am  twenty-two  years  of  age,  and  I  am  in  love  with  Euphrasia 


323  MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 

— that  is  my  story.  My  father  is  rich,  he  will  pay  you  back ; 
do  not  ruin  me !  Have  you  not  yourself  been  twenty-two 
years  old  and  madly  in  love  ?  '  But  these  beggarly  land- 
owners have  no  souls !  He  would  be  quite  likely  to  give  me 
up  to  the  public  prosecutor,  instead  of  taking  pity  upon  me. 
Good  God  !  if  it  were  only  possible  to  sell  your  soul  to  the 
devil !  But  there  is  neither  a  God  nor  a  devil ;  it  is  all  non- 
sense out  of  nursery  tales  and  old  wives'  talk.  What  shall 
Ido?" 

"If  you  have  a  mind  to  sell  your  soul  to  the  devil,  sir," 
said  the  house-painter,  who  had  overheard  something  that  the 
clerk  let  fall,  "  you  can  have  the  ten  thousand  francs." 

"And  Euphrasia !  "  cried  the  clerk,  as  he  struck  a  bargain 
with  the  devil  that  inhabited  the  house-painter. 

The  pact  concluded,  the  frantic  clerk  went  to  find  the 
shawl,  and  mounted  Madame  Euphrasia's  staircase ;  and  as 
(literally)  the  devil  was  in  him,  he  did  not  come  down  for 
twelve  days,  drowning  the  thought  of  hell  and  of  his  privi- 
leges in  twelve  days  of  love  and  riot  and  forget  fulness,  for 
which  he  had  bartered  away  all  his  hopes  of  a  paradise  to 
come. 

And  in  this  way  the  secret  of  the  vast  power  discovered 
and  acquired  by  the  Englishman,  the  offspring  of  Mathurin's 
brain,  was  lost  to  mankind  ;  and  the  various  Orientalists, 
mystics,  and  archaeologists  who  take  an  interest  in  these 
matters  were  unable  to  hand  down  to  posterity  the  proper 
method  of  invoking  the  devil,  for  the  following  sufficient 
reasons : 

On  the  thirteenth  day  after  these  frenzied  nuptials  the 
wretched  clerk  lay  on  a  pallet  bed  in  a  garret  in  his  master's 
house  in  the  Rue  Saint-Honor6.  Shame,  the  stupid  goddess 
who  dares  not  behold  herself,  had  taken  possession  of  the 
young  man.  He  had  fallen  ill ;  he  would  nurse  himself; 
misjudged  the  quantity  of  a  remedy  devised  by  the  skill  of  a 
practitioner  well  known  on  the  walls  of  Paris,  and  succumbed 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED.  329 

to  the  effects  of  an  overdose  of  mercury.  His  corpse  was  as 
black  as  a  mole's  back.  A  devil  had  left  unmistakable  traces 
of  its  passage  there ;  could  it  have  been  Ashtaroth  ? 

"The  estimable  youth  to  whom  you  refer  has  been  carried 
away  to  the  planet  Mercury,"  said  the  head  clerk  to  a  German 
demonologist  who  came  to  investigate  the  matter  at  first  hand. 

"I  am  quite  prepared  to  believe  it,"  answered  the  Teuton. 

"Oh!" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  returned  the  other.  "  The  opinion  you  advance 
coincides  with  the  very  words  of  Jacob  Boehme.  In  the 
forty-eighth  proposition  of  '  The  Threefold  Life  of  Man/ 
he  says  that  '  if  God  hath  brought  all  things  to  pass  with  a 
LET  THERE  BE,  the  FIAT  is  the  secret  matrix  which  compre- 
hends and  apprehends  the  nature  which  is>  formed  by  the 
spirit  born  of  Mercury  and  of  God.'  " 

"  What  do  you  say,  sir  ?  " 

The  German  delivered  his  quotation  afresh. 

"  We  do  not  know  it,"  said  the  clerks. 

"  Fiat  ? ' '  said  the  clerk.     "  Fiat  lux  ! ' ' 

"You  can  verify  the  citation  for  yourselves,"  said  the 
German.  "You  will  find  the  passage  in  the  'Treatise  of  the 
Threefold  Life  of  Man,'  page  75;  the  edition  was  published 
by  M.  Mignaret  in  1809.  It  was  translated  into  French  by  a 
philosopher  who  had  a  great  admiration  for  the  famous  shoe- 
maker." 

"  Oh  !  he  was  a  shoemaker,  was  he  ?  "  said  the  head  clerk. 

"In  Prussia,"  said  the  German. 

"  Did  he  work  for  the  King  of  Prussia?  "  inquired  a  Boeo- 
tian of  a  second  clerk. 

"  He  must  have  vamped  up  his  prose,"  said  a  third. 

"  That  man  is  colossal,"  cried  the  fourth,  pointing  to  the 
Teuton. 

That  gentleman,  though  a  demonologist  of  the  first  rank, 
did  not  know  the  amount  of  deviltry  to  be  found  in  a 


330 


MELMOTH  RECONCILED. 


notary's  clerk.  He  went  away  without  the  least  idea  that 
they  were  making  game  of  him,  and  fully  under  the  impres- 
sion that  the  young  fellows  regarded  Boehme  as  a  colossal 
genius. 

"  Education  is  making  strides  in  France,"  said  he  to  him- 
self. 

PARIS,  May  6,  1835. 


THE  RED  HOUSE. 

(L? Aubergc  rouge.} 
To  Monsieur  le  Marquis  de  Custine. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  (I  forget  the  exact  year)  a  Parisian 
banker,  who  had  very  extensive  business  relations  with  Ger- 
many, gave  a  dinner  party  in  honor  of  one  of  the  friends  that 
merchants  make  in  this  place  and  that  by  correspondence,  a 
sort  of  friendship  that  subsists  for  a  long  while  between  men 
who  have  never  met.  The  friend,  the  senior  partner  of  some 
considerable  firm  in  Nuremberg,  was  a  stout,  good-natured 
German,  a  man  of  learning  and  of  taste,  more  particularly  in 
the  matter  of  tobacco  pipes.  He  was  a  typical  Nuremberger, 
with  a  pleasant,  broad  countenance  and  a  massive,  square 
forehead,  with  a  few  stray  fair  hairs  here  and  there  ;  a  typical 
German,  a  son  of  the  stainless  and  noble  Fatherland,  so  fer- 
tile in  honorable  characters,  preserving  its  manners  uncor- 
rupted  even  after  seven  invasions.  The  stranger  laughed 
simply,  listened  attentively,  and  drank  with  marked  enjoy- 
ment, seeming  to  like  champagne  perhaps  as  well  as  the  pale 
red  wines  of  the  Johannisberg.  Like  nearly  every  German  in 
nearly  every  book,  he  was  named  Hermann ;  and  in  the 
quality  of  a  man  who  does  nothing  with  levity,  he  was  com- 
fortably seated  at  the  banker's  table,  eating  his  way  through 
the  dinner  with  the  Teutonic  appetite  renowned  all  over 
Europe,  and  thorough  indeed  was  his  manner  of  bidding  adieu 
to  all  the  works  of  the  great  Car£me. 

The  master  of  the  house  had  invited  several  intimate 
friends  to  do  honor  to  his  guest.  These  were  for  the  most  part 
capitalists  or  merchants,  interspersed  with  a  few  pretty  and 
agreeable  women,  whose  light,  graceful  talk  and  frank  manner 

(331) 


332  THE  RED  HOUSE. 

harmonized  with  German  openheartedness.  And,  indeed,  if 
you  could  have  seen,  as  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing,  this 
blithe  gathering  of  folk  who  had  sheathed  the  active  claws 
employed  in  raking-in  wealth,  that  they  might  make  the  best 
of  an  opportunity  of  enjoying  the  pleasures  of  life,  you  would 
scarcely  have  found  it  in  your  heart  to  grudge  high  rates  of 
interest  or  to  revile  defaulters.  A  man  cannot  always  be  in 
mischief.  Even  in  the  society  of  pirates,  for  instance,  there 
must  surely  be  a  pleasant  hour  now  and  then  when  you  may 
feel  at  your  ease  beneath  the  black  flag. 

"  Oh,  I  do  hope  that  before  M.  Hermann  goes  he  will  tell 
us  another  dreadful,  thrilling  German  story  !  " 

The  words  were  uttered  over  the  dessert  by  a  pale,  fair- 
haired  young  lady,  who  had  doubtless  been  reading  Hoff- 
mann's tales  and  Sir  Walter  Scott's  novels.  She  was  the 
banker's  only  daughter,  an  irresistibly  charming  girl,  whose 
education  was  being  finished  at  the  Gymnase  ;  she  was  wild 
about  the  plays  given  there.  The  dinner  party  had  just 
reached  the  period  of  lazy  content  and  serene  disinclination 
to  talk  that  succeeds  an  excellent  dinner  in  the  course  of 
which  somewhat  heavy  demands  have  been  made  upon  the 
digestion ;  when  the  guests  lean  back  in  their  chairs  and  play 
idly  with  the  gilded  knife-blades,  while  their  wrists  repose 
lightly  on  the  table  edge;  the  period  of  decline  when  some 
torment  apple  pips,  or  knead  a  crumb  of  bread  between 
thumb  and  finger,  when  the  sentimental  write  illegible  initials 
among  the  debris  of  the  dessert,  and  the  penurious  count  the 
stones  on  their  plates,  and  arrange  them  round  the  edge,  as  a 
playwright  marshals  the  supernumeraries  at  the  back  of  the 
stage.  These  are  minor  gastronomical  pleasures  which  Brillat- 
Savarin  has  passed  over  unnoticed,  exhaustively  as  he  has 
treated  his  subject  in  other  respects. 

The  servants  had  disappeared.  The  dessert,  like  a  squadron 
after  an  action,  was  quite  disorganized,  disarrayed,  forlorn.  In 
spite  of  persistent  efforts  on  the  part  of  the  mistress  of  the 


THE  RED  HOUSE.  333 

house,  the  various  dishes  strayed  about  the  table.  People 
fixed  their  eyes  on  the  Swiss  views  that  adorned  the  gray  walls 
of  the  dining-room.  No  one  felt  it  tedious.  The  man  has 
yet  to  be  found  who  can  mope  while  he  digests  a  good  dinner. 
At  that  time  we  like  to  sit  steeped  in  an  indescribable  calm,  a 
sort  of  golden  mean  between  the  two  extremes  of  the  thinker's 
musings  and  the  sleek  content  of  the  ruminating  brute, 
which  should  be  termed  the  physical  melancholy  of  gastro- 
nomy. 

So  the  party  turned  spontaneously  towards  the  worthy  Ger- 
man, all  of  them  delighted  to  listen  to  a  tale,  even  if  it  should 
be  a  dull  one.  During  this  beatific  pause,  the  mere  sound  of 
the  voice  of  the  one  who  tells  the  story  is  soothing  to  our 
languid  senses;  it  is  one  more  aid  to  passive  enjoyment. 
As  an  amateur  of  pictures,  I  watched  the  faces,  bright  with 
smiles,  lit  up  by  the  light  of  the  tapers  and  flushed  with 
good-cheer ;  the  different  expressions  produced  piquant  effects 
among  the  sconces,  the  porcelain  baskets  of  fruit,  and  the 
crystal  glasses. 

One  face,  exactly  opposite,  particularly  struck  my  imagina- 
tion. It  belonged  to  a  middle-sized  man,  tolerably  stout  and 
jovial-looking ;  who,  from  his  manner  and  appearance,  seemed 
to  be  a  stockbroker,  and,  so  far  as  one  could  see,  gifted  with 
no  extraordinary  amount  of  brains.  Hitherto  I  had  not 
noticed  him,  but  at  that  moment  his  face,  obscured,  to  be  sure, 
by  a  bad  light,  seemed  to  me  to  undergo  a  total  change ;  it  took 
a  cadaverous  hue,  veined  with  purple  streaks.  You  might  have 
taken  it  for  the  ghastly  countenance  of  a  man  in  the  death  agony. 
Impassive  as  a  painted  figure  in  a  diorama,  he  was  staring 
stupidly  at  the  facets  of  a  crystal  decanter-stopper,  but  he 
certainly  took  no  heed  of  them ;  he  seemed  to  be  deep  in 
some  visionary  contemplation  of  the  future  or  of  the  past. 
A  long  scrutiny  of  this  dubious-looking  face  made  me  think. 

"Is  he  ill?"  I  asked  myself.  "Has  he  taken  too  much 
wine  ?  Is  he  ruined  by  the  fall  of  the  funds  ?  Is  he  thinking 


334  THE  RED  HOUSE. 

how  to  cheat  his  creditors?  Look  !  "  I  said  to  a  lady  who  sat 
next  to  me,  calling  her  attention  to  the  stranger's  face,  "  that 
is  a  budding  bankruptcy,  is  it  not? " 

"Oh  !  "  she  answered,  "  if  it  were,  he  would  be  in  better 
spirits."  Then,  with  a  graceful  toss  of  her  head,  she  added : 
"If  that  individual  ever  ruins  himself,  I  will  take  the  news  to 
Pekin  myself.  He  is  a  rather  eccentric  old  gentleman  worth 
a  million  in  real  estate ;  he  used  to  be  a  contractor  to  the  im- 
perial armies.  He  married  again  as  a  business  speculation,  but 
he  makes  his  wife  very  happy  for  all  that.  He  has  a  pretty 
daughter,  whom  for  a  very  long  time  he  would  not  recognize ; 
but  when  his  son  died  by  a  sad  accident  in  a  duel,  he  was 
obliged  to  take  her  home,  for  he  was  not  likely  to  have  any 
more  children.  So  all  at  once  the  poor  girl  became  one  of 
the  richest  heiresses  in  Paris.  The  loss  of  his  only  son  threw 
the  poor  dear  man  into  great  grief,  and  he  still  shows  signs  of 
it  at  times." 

As  she  spoke  the  army-contractor  looked  up,  and  our  eyes 
met;  his  expression  made  me  shudder,  it  was  so  gloomy  and 
so  sad.  Assuredly  a  whole  life  was  summed  up  in  that  glance. 
Then  in  a  moment  he  looked  cheerful.  He  took  up  the  glass 
stopper,  put  it  unthinkingly  into  the  mouth  of  the  water  de- 
canter that  stood  on  the  table  in  front  of  him,  and  turned 
smilingly  towards  M.  Hermann.  The  man  was  positively 
beaming  with  full-fed  content,  and  had,  no  doubt,  not  two 
ideas  in  his  head ;  he  had  been  thinking  of  nothing  !  I  was 
to  some  extent  ashamed  to  have  thrown  away  my  powers  of 
divination  in  anima  vili,  to  have  taken  this  thick-skulled 
capitalist  as  a  subject.  But  while  I  was  making  my  phreno- 
logical observations  in  pure  waste,  the  good-natured  German 
had  flicked  a  few  grains  of  snuff  off  his  face  and  begun  his 
story. 

It  would  be  a  somewhat  difficult  matter  to  give  it  in  the  same 
words,  with  his  not  infrequent  interruptions  and  wordy  digres- 
sions ;  so  I  have  written  it  after  my  own  fashion,  omitting 


THE  RED  HOUSE.  335 

these  defects  of  the  Nuremberger's  narrative,  and  helping  my- 
self to  such  elements  of  poetry  and  interest  as  it  may  possess, 
emulating  the  modesty  of  other  writers  who  omit  the  formula: 
"Translated  from  the  German,"  from  their  title-pages. 


I.    THE  IDEA  AND  THE  DEED. 

"  Towards  the  end  of  Vendemiaire,  in  the  year  VII.  of  the 
Republican  era  (a  date  that  corresponds  to  the  2oth  of  Octo- 
ber, present  style),  two  young  men  were  making  their  way 
towards  Andernach,  a  little  town  on  the  left  bank  of  the 
Rhine,  a  few  leagues  from  Coblentz.  The  travelers  had  set 
out  from  Bonn  that  morning,  and  now  the  day  was  drawing 
to  a  close.  At  that  particular  time  a  French  army  under  com- 
mand of  General  Augereau  was  keeping  in  check  the  Austrians 
on  the  right  bank  of  the  river.  The  headquarters  of  the 
Republican  division  were  at  Coblentz,  and  one  of  the  demi- 
brigades  belonging  to  Augereau's  corps  was  quartered  in 
Andernach. 

"The  two  wayfarers  were  Frenchmen.  At  first  sight  of 
their  blue  and  white  uniforms,  with  red  velvet  facings,  their 
sabres,  and,  above  all,  their  caps  covered  with  green  oilcloth 
and  adorned  with  a  tricolor  cockade,  the  German  peasants 
themselves  might  have  known  them  for  a  pair  of  army  sur- 
geons, men  of  science  and  of  sterling  worth,  popular  for  the 
most  part  not  only  in  the  army,  but  also  in  the  countries 
occupied  by  French  troops.  At  that  time  many  young  men 
of  good  family,  torn  from  their  medical  studies  by  General 
Jourdan's  conscription  law,  not  unnaturally  preferred  to  con- 
tinue their  studies  on  the  battlefield  to  compulsory  service  in 
the  ranks,  a  life  ill  suited  to  their  antecedents  and  unwarlike 
ambitions.  Men  of  this  stamp,  studious,  serviceable,  peace- 
ably inclined,  did  some  good  among  so  many  evils,  and  found 


336  THE  RED  HOUSE. 

congenial  spirits  among  the  learned  of  the  various  countries 
invaded  by  the  ruthless  affranchisement  of  the  Republic. 

"  These  two,  provided  with  a  route  of  the  road,  and  with 
assistant  surgeons'  commissions  signed  by  La  Coste  and  Berna- 
dotte,  were  on  their  way  to  join  the  demi-brigade  to  which 
they  were  attached.  Both  belonged  to  well-to-do  families  in 
Beauvais,  and  traditions  of  gentle  breeding  and  of  provincial 
integrity  had  been  a  part  of  their  inheritance.  A  curiosity 
quite  natural  in  youth  had  brought  them  to  the  seat  of  war 
before  the  time  fixed  for  entrance  on  active  service,  and  they 
had  come  by  the  diligence  as  far  as  Strasbourg.  Maternal 
prudence  had  suffered  them  to  leave  home  with  a  very  scanty 
supply  of  money,  but  they  felt  rich  in  the  possession  of  a  few 
louis ;  and,  indeed,  at  a  time  when  assignats  had  reached  the 
lowest  point  of  depreciation,  those  few  louis  meant  wealth,  for 
gold  was  at  a  high  premium. 

"The  two  assistant  surgeons,  aged  twenty  years  at  most, 
gave  themselves  up  to  the  romance  of  their  situation  with  all 
the  enthusiasm  of  youth.  They  had  traversed  the  Palatinate 
from  Strasbourg  to  Bonn  in  the  quality  of  artists,  philosophers, 
and  observers.  When  we  have  a  scientific  career  before  us, 
there  are,  in  truth,  at  that  age  many  natures  within  us ;  and 
even  while  making  love  or  traveling  about,  an  assistant  surgeon 
should  be  laying  the  foundations  of  his  future  fame  and  for- 
tune. Accordingly,  the  pair  had  been  carried  away  by  the 
profound  admiration  that  every  well-read  man  must  feel  at  the 
sight  of  the  scenery  of  Swabia  and  the  banks  of  the  Rhine 
between  Mayence  and  Cologne.  They  saw  a  vigorous  and 
fertile  country,  an  undulating  green  landscape  full  of  strong 
contrasts  and  memories  of  feudal  times,  and  everywhere 
scarred  by  fire  and  sword.  Louis  XIV.  and  Turenne  once 
before  laid  that  fair  land  in  ashes ;  heaps  of  ruins  bear  witness 
to  the  pride,  or,  it  may  be,  to  the  prudence  of  the  monarch 
of  Versailles,  who  rased  the  wonderful  castles  which  once  were 
the  glory  of  this  part  of  Germany.  You  arrive  at  some  con- 


THE  RED   HOUSE.  337 

ception  of  the  German  mind  ;  you  understand  its  dreaminess 
and  its  mysticism  from  this  wonderful  forest-land  of  theirs,  full 
of  remains  of  the  middle  ages,  picturesque,  albeit  in  ruins. 

"The  two  friends  had  made  some  stay  in  Bonn  with  two 
objects  in  view — scientific  knowledge  and  pleasure.  The  grand 
hospital  of  the  Gallo-Batavian  army  and  of  Augereau's  divi- 
sion had  been  established  in  the  Electoral  palace  itself,  and 
thither  the  two  novices  had  gone  to  see  their  comrades,  to 
deliver  letters  of  recommendation  to  their  chiefs,  and  to  make 
their  first  acquaintance  with  the  life  of  army  surgeons.  But 
with  the  new  impressions,  there  as  elsewhere,  they  parted 
with  some  of  their  national  prejudices,  and  discovered  that 
France  had  no  monopoly  of  beautiful  public  buildings  and 
landscapes.  The  marble  columns  that  adorn  the  Electoral  pal- 
ace took  them  by  surprise  ;  they  admired  the  magnificence  of 
German  architecture  and  found  fresh  treasures  of  ancient  and 
modern  art  at  every  step. 

"  Now  and  again  in  the  course  of  their  wanderings  towards 
Andernach  their  way  led  them  over  some  higher  peak  among 
the  granite  hills.  Through  a  clear  space  in  the  forest,  or  a 
chasm  in  the  rocks,  they  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  Rhine,  a 
picture  framed  in  the  gray  stone,  or  in  some  setting  of  lux- 
uriant trails  of  green  leaves.  Every  valley,  field-path,  and 
forest  was  filled  with  autumn  scents  that  conduce  to  musings 
and  with  signs  of  the  aging  of  the  year ;  the  tree-tops  were 
turning  golden,  taking  warmer  hues  and  shades  of  brown  ; 
the  leaves  were  falling,  but  the  sky  was  blue  and  cloudless 
overhead ;  the  roads  were  dry,  and  shone  like  threads  of  gold 
across  the  country  in  the  late  afternoon  sunlight. 

"  Haifa  league  from  Andernach,  the  country  through  which 
the  two  friends  were  traveling  lay  in  a  silence  as  deep  as  if 
there  were  no  war  laying  waste  the  beautiful  land.  They  were 
following  a  goat  track  among  the  steep  crags  of  bluish  granite 
that  rise  like  walls  above  the  eddying  Rhine,  and  before  very 
long  were  descending  the  sloping  sides  of  the  ravine  above 
22 


338  THE  RED  HOUSE. 

the  little  town,  nestling  coyly  at  its  foot  on  the  river  bank, 
its  picturesque  quay  for  the  Rhine  boatmen. 

"  '  Germany  is  a  very  beautiful  country  !  '  cried  one  of  the 
two,  Prosper  Magnan  by  name,  as  he  caught  sight  of  the 
painted  houses  of  Andernach  lying  close  together  like  eggs 
in  a  basket,  among  the  trees  and  flower-gardens. 

"For  a  few  minutes  they  looked  at  the  high-pitched  roofs 
with  their  projecting  beams,  at  the  balconies  and  wooden 
staircases  of  all  those  peaceful  dwellings,  and  at  the  boats 
swaying  in  the  currents  by  the  quay." 

When  M.  Hermann  mentioned  the  name  of  Prosper  Mag- 
nan,  my  opposite  neighbor,  the  army-contractor,  snatched  up 
the  decanter,  poured  himself  out  a  glass  of  water,  and  drank 
it  down  at  a  gulp.  This  proceeding  called  my  attention  to 
him ;  I  thought  I  saw  a  slight  quiver  in  his  hands  and  a  trace 
of  perspiration  on  his  forehead. 

"What  is  the  army-contractor's  name?"  I  inquired  of  my 
gracious  neighbor. 

"His  name  is  Taillefer,"  said  she. 

"  Are  you  feeling  unwell  ?  "  I  exclaimed,  as  this  unaccount- 
able being  turned  pale. 

"  Not  at  all,  not  at  all,"  he  said,  with  a  courteous  gesture 
of  acknowledgment.  "I  am  listening,"  he  said,  with  a  nod 
to  the  rest  of  the  party,  for  all  eyes  were  turned  at  once  upon 
him. 

"I  forget  the  other  young  man's  name,"  said  M.  Hermann. 
"But,  at  any  rate,  from  Prosper  Magnan's  confidences  I  learned 
that  his  friend  was  dark,  lively,  and  rather  thin.  If  you  have 
no  objection,  I  will  call  him  Wilhelm  for  the  sake  of  clearness 
in  the  story."  And  the  good  German  took  up  his  tale  again, 
again  baptizing  a  French  assistant  surgeon  with  a  German 
name,  totally  regardless  of  local  color  and  of  the  demands  of 
romanticism. 

"  So  by  the  time  these  two  young  fellows  reached  Andernach 
night  had  fallen  ;  and  they,  fancying  that  it  was  too  late  to 


THE  RED  HOUSE.  339 

report  themselves  to  their  chiefs,  make  themselves  known  and 
obtain  billets  in  a  place  already  full  of  soldiers,  made  up  their 
minds  to  spend  their  last  night  of  freedom  in  an  inn,  about  a 
hundred  paces  outside  the  town.  They  had  seen  it  from  the 
crags  above,  and  had  admired  the  warm  colors  of  the  house, 
heightened  by  the  glow  of  the  sunset.  The  whole  building 
was  painted  red,  and  produced  a  piquant  effect  in  the  land- 
scape, whether  it  was  seen  against  the  crowd  of  houses  in  the 
town,  or  as  a  mass  of  bright  color  against  a  background  of 
forest  trees,  or  a  patch  of  scarlet  by  the  gray  water's  edge. 
Doubtless  the  inn  owed  its  external  decoration,  and  conse- 
quently its  name,  to  the  whim  of  the  builder  in  some  forgotten 
time.  The  color  had  come  to  be  literally  a  matter  of  custom 
to  successive  owners,  for  the  inn  had  a  name  among  the  Rhine 
boatmen  who  frequented  it.  The  sound  of  horses'  hoofs 
brought  the  landlord  of  the  Red  House  to  the  threshold. 

"  '  Pardieu  !  gentlemen,'  cried  he,  '  a  little  later  you  would 
have  had  to  sleep  out  of  doors  like  most  of  your  countrymen 
bivouacking  yonder  at  the  other  end  of  Andernach.  The 
house  is  full.  If  you  positively  must  have  a  bed  to  sleep  in,  I 
have  only  my  own  room  to  offer  you.  As  for  the  horses,  I 
can  lay  down  some  litter  in  a  corner  of  the  yard  for  them ; 
my  stables  are  full  of  christened  men  this  day.  You  gentle- 
men are  from  France  ? '  he  went  on  after  a  brief  pause. 

"'From  Bonn,'  cried  Prosper,  'and  we  have  had  nothing 
to  eat  since  morning.' 

"  '  Oh  !  as  to  victuals,1  said  the  landlord,  jerking  his  head, 
'  people  come  to  the  Red  House  for  ten  leagues  round  for 
wedding  feasts.  You  shall  have  a  banquet  fit  for  a  prince, 
fish  from  the  Rhine  !  That  tells  you  everything.' 

"  When  they  had  given  over  their  tired  beasts  into  the 
host's  care,  they  left  him  to  shout  in  vain  for  the  stable  folk, 
and  went  into  the  public  room  of  the  inn.  It. was  so  full  of 
dense  white  clouds  blown  from  the  pipes  of  a  roomful  of 
smokers  that  at  first  they  could  not  make  out  what  kind  of 


340  THE  RED  HOUSE, 

company  they  had  fallen  among ;  but  after  they  had  sat  for 
a  while  at  a  table,  and  put  in  practice  the  patience  of  traveled 
philosophers  who  know  when  it  is  useless  to  make  a  fuss,  they 
gradually  made  out  the  inevitable  accessories  of  a  German 
inn.  The  stove,  the  clock,  the  tables,  pots  of  beer  and  long 
pipes,  loomed  out  through  the  tobacco  smoke;  so  did  the 
faces  of  the  motley  crew,  Jews,  Germans,  and  whatnot,  with 
one  or  two  rough  boatmen  thrown  in. 

"  The  epaulettes  of  a  few  French  officers  shone  through  the 
thick  mist,  and  spurs  and  sabres  clanked  incessantly  upon  the 
flagstones.  Some  were  playing  at  cards,  the  rest  quarreled 
among  themselves,  or  were  silent,  ate,  or  drank,  and  came 
or  went.  A  stout  little  woman,  who  wore  the  black  velvet 
cap,  blue  stomacher  embroidered  with  silver,  the  pin-cushion, 
bunch  of  keys,  silver  clasps,  and  plaited  hair  of  the  typical 
German  landlady  (a  costume  made  so  familiar  in  all  its  details 
by  a  host  of  prints  that  it  is  too  well  known  to  need  descrip- 
tion), came  to  the  two  friends  and  soothed  their  impatience, 
while  she  stimulated  their  interest  in  their  supper  with  very 
remarkable  skill. 

"  Gradually  the  noise  diminished,  the  travelers  went  off  one 
by  one,  the  clouds  of  tobacco  smoke  cleared  away.  By  the 
time  that  the  table  was  set  for  the  assistant  surgeons,  and  the 
classic  carp  from  the  Rhine  appeared,  it  was  eleven  o'clock, 
and  the  room  was  empty.  Through  the  stillness  of  the  night 
it  was  possible  to  hear  faint  noises  of  horses  stamping  or 
crunching  their  provender,  the  ripple  of  the  Rhine,  the  vague 
indefinable  sounds  in  an  inn  full  of  people  when  every  one 
has  retired  to  rest.  Doors  and  windows  opened  or  shut ; 
there  was  an  inarticulate  murmur  of  voices,  or  a  name  was 
called  out  in  some  room  overhead.  During  this  time  of 
silence  and  of  commotion,  while  the  two  Frenchmen  were 
eating  their  supper  and  the  landlord  engaged  in  extolling 
Andernach,  the  meal,  his  Rhine  wine,  his  wife,  and  the 
Republican  army,  for  the  benefit  of  his  guests,  the  three 


THE  RED  HOUSE.  341 

heard,  with  a  certain  degree  of  interest,  the  hoarse  shouts  of 
boatmen  and  the  rattling  sound  of  a  boat  being  moored  along- 
side the  quay.  The  innkeeper,  doubtless  accustomed  to  be 
hailed  by  the  guttural  cries  of  the  boatmen,  hurried  out, 
and  soon  came  in  again  with  a  short,  stout  man,  a  couple  of 
the  boat's  crew  following  them  with  a  heavy  valise  and  several 
packages.  As  soon  as  the  baggage  was  deposited  in  the  room, 
the  short  man  picked  up  his  valise  and  seated  himself  without 
ceremony  at  the  table  opposite  the  two  surgeons. 

"  '  You  can  sleep  on  board,'  said  he  to  the  boatmen,  '  as 
the  inn  is  full.  All  things  considered,  that  will  be  the  best 
way.' 

"  '  All  the  provisions  I  have  in  the  house  are  here  before 
you,  sir,'  said  the  landlord,  and  he  indicated  the  Frenchmen's 
supper.  '  I  have  not  a  crust  of  bread,  and  not  so  much  as  a 
bone ' 

"  '  And  no  sauerkraut  ?  ' 

" '  Not  so  much  as  would  fill  my  wife's  thimble !  As  I  had 
the  honor  of  telling  you  just  now,  you  can  have  no  bed  but 
the  chair  you  are  sitting  on,  and  this  is  the  only  unoccupied 
room.' 

"  At  these  words  the  short  personage  glanced  at  the  land- 
lord, at  the  room,  and  at  the  two  Frenchmen,  caution  and 
alarm  equally  visible  in  the  expression  of  his  countenance. 

"At  this  point,"  said  M.  Hermann,  interrupting  himself, 
"  I  should  tell  you  that  we  never  knew  this  stranger's  real 
name,  nor  his  history  ;  we  found  out  from  his  papers  that  he 
came  from  Aix-la-Chapelle,  that  he  had  assumed  the  name  of 
Walhenfer,  and  owned  a  rather  large  pin-factory  somewhere 
near  Neuwied — that  was  all. 

"  He  wore,  like  other  manufacturers  in  that  part  of  the 
world,  an  ordinary  cloth  overcoat,  waistcoat,  and  breeches  of 
dark-green  velvet,  high  boots,  and  a  broad  leather  belt.  His 
face  was  perfectly  round,  his  manners  frank  and  hearty,  and 
during  the  evening  he  found  it  very  difficult  to  disguise  some 


342  THE  RED  HOUSE. 

inward  apprehensions,  or,  it  may  be,  cruel  anxieties.  The 
innkeeper  always  said  that  the  German  merchant  was  flying 
the  country,  and  I  learned  later  on  that  his  factory  had  been 
burned  down  through  one  of  the  unlucky  accidents  so 
frequent  in  time  of  war.  But  in  spite  of  the  uneasy  look 
that  his  face  generally  wore,  its  natural  expression  denoted 
good-humor  and  good-nature.  He  had  good  features,  and  a 
particularly  noticeable  personal  trait  was  a  thick  neck,  so 
white  in  contrast  with  a  black  cravat,  that  Wilhelm  jokingly 
pointed  it  out  to  Prosper " 

Here  M.  Taillefer  drank  another  glass  of  water. 

"  Prosper  courteously  invited  the  merchant  to  share  their 
supper,  and  Walhenfer  fell  to  without  more  ado,  like  a  man 
who  is  conscious  that  he  can  repay  a  piece  of  civility.  He 
set  down  his  valise  on  the  floor,  put  his  feet  upon  it,  took  off 
his  hat,  drew  his  chair  to  the  table,  and  laid  down  his  gloves 
beside  him,  together  with  a  pair  of  pistols,  which  he  carried 
in  his  belt.  The  landlord  quickly  laid  a  cover  for  him,  and 
the  three  began  to  satisfy  their  hunger  silently  enough. 

"  The  room  was  so  close  and  the  flies  so  troublesome  that 
Prosper  besought  the  landlord  to  open  the  window  that 
looked  out  upon  the  quay  to  let  in  fresh  air.  This  window 
was  fastened  by  an  iron  bar  that  dropped  into  a  socket  on 
either  side  of  the  window  frame,  and  for  greater  security  a 
nut  fastened  to  each  of  the  shutters  received  a  bolt.  It  so 
happened  that  Prosper  watched  the  landlord  unfasten  the 
window. 

"But  since  I  am  going  into  these  particulars,"  M.  Her- 
mann remarked,  "  I  ought  to  describe  the  internal  arrange- 
ments of  the  house ;  for  the  whole  interest  of  the  story 
depends  on  an  accurate  knowledge  of  the  place. 

"There  were  two  entrance  doors  in  the  room  where  these 
three  personages  were  sitting.  One  opened  on  to  the  road 
that  followed  the  river  bank  to  Andernach,  and,  as  might  be 
expected,  just  opposite  the  inn,  there  was  a  little  jetty  where 


THE  RED  HOUSE.  343 

the  boat  which  the  merchant  had  hired  for  his  voyage  was 
moored  at  that  moment.  The  other  door  gave  admittance  to 
the  inn-yard,  a  court  shut  in  by  very  high  walls,  and  at  the 
moment  full  of  horses  and  cattle,  for  human  beings  occupied 
the  stables. 

"The  house-door  had  been  so  carefully  bolted  and  barred 
that,  to  save  time,  the  landlord  had  opened  the  street-door  of 
the  sitting-room  to  admit  the  merchant  and  the  boatmen,  and 
now,  when  he  had  opened  the  window  at  Prosper  Magnan's 
instance,  he  set  to  work  to  shut  this  door,  slipping  the  bolts 
and  screwing  the  nuts. 

"  The  landlord's  bedroom,  where  the  friends  were  to  sleep, 
was  next  to  the  public  room  of  the  inn,  and  only  separated 
from  the  kitchen,  where  the  host  and  hostess  were  probably 
to  pass  the  night,  by  a  sufficiently  thin  partition  wall.  The 
maidservant  had  just  gone  out  to  find  a  nook  in  some  manger, 
or  in  the  corner  of  a  hayloft  somewhere  or  other.  It  will  be 
readily  understood  that  the  public  room,  the  landlord's  bed- 
room, and  the  kitchen  were  in  a  manner  apart  from  the  rest 
of  the  inn.  The  deep  barking  of  two  great  dogs  in  the  yard 
indicated  that  the  house  had  vigilant  and  wakeful  guardians. 

"  '  How  quiet  it  is,  and  what  a  glorious  night ! '  said  Wil- 
helm,  looking  out  at  the  sky  when  the  landlord  had  bolted 
the  door.  There  was  not  a  sound  to  be  heard  at  the  moment 
save  the  rippling  of  the  water. 

"  '  Gentlemen,'  said  the  merchant,  addressing  the  French- 
men, '  allow  me  to  offer  you  a  bottle  or  two  of  wine  to  wash 
down  your  carp.  A  glass  will  refresh  us  after  a  tiring  day. 
By  the  look  of  you,  and  the  condition  of  your  clothes,  I  can 
see  that,  like  myself,  you  have  come  a  good  way.' 

"The  two  friends  accepted  the  proposal,  and  the  landlord 
went  out  through  the  kitchen  to  the  cellar,  doubtless  situated 
beneath  that  part  of  the  establishment.  About  the  time  that 
five  venerable  bottles  appeared  upon  the  table,  the  landlord's 
wife  had  finished  serving  the  supper.  She  gave  a  housewife's 


344  THE  RED  HOUSE. 

glance  over  the  dishes  and  round  the  room,  assured  herself 
that  the  travelers  had  everything  they  were  likely  to  want, 
and  went  back  to  the  kitchen.  The  four  boon  companions, 
for  the  host  was  asked  to  join  the  party,  did  not  hear  her  go 
off  to  bed ;  but  before  long,  in  the  pauses  of  the  chat  over 
the  wine,  there  came  an  occasional  very  distinct  sound  of 
snoring  from  the  loft  above  the  kitchen  where  she  was  sleep- 
ing, a  sound  rendered  still  more  resonant  by  reason  of  the 
thin  plank  floor.  This  made  the  guests  smile,  and  the  land- 
lord smiled  still  more. 

"  Towards  midnight,  when  there  was  nothing  left  on  the 
table  but  cheese  and  biscuits,  dried  fruit,  and  good  wine,  the 
whole  party,  and  the  young  Frenchmen  more  particularly, 
grew  communicative.  They  talked  about  their  country,  their 
studies,  and  the  war.  After  a  while  the  conversation  grew 
lively.  Prosper  Magnan  drew  tears  to  the  merchant's  eyes 
when,  with  a  Picard's  frankness  and  the  simplicity  of  a  kindly 
and  affectionate  nature,  he  began  to  imagine  what  his  mother 
would  be  doing  while  he,  her  son,  was  here  on  the  bank  of 
the  Rhine. 

"  'It  is  just  as  if  I  can  see  her,'  he  said  ;  'she  is  reading 
the  evening  prayer,  the  last  thing  at  night !  She  will  not 
forget  me  I  know ;  she  is  sure  to  say,  "  Where  is  my  poor 
Prosper,  I  wonder?"  Then  if  she  has  won  a  few  sous  at 
cards— of  your  mother  perhaps,'  he  added,  jogging  Wilhelm's 
elbow — '  she  will  be  putting  them  in  the  big  red  jar,  where 
she  keeps  the  money  she  is  saving  up  to  buy  those  thirty  acres 
that  lie  within  her  own  little  bit  of  land  at  Lescheville.  The 
thirty  acres  will  be  worth  something  like  sixty  thousand  francs. 
Good  meadow  land  it  is  !  Ah  !  if  I  were  to  have  it  some 
day,  I  would  live  all  the  rest  of  my  life  at  Lescheville,  and  want 
nothing  better !  How  often  my  father  wanted  those  thirty 
acres  and  the  nice  little  stream  that  winds  along  through  the 
fields !  And,  after  all,  he  died  and  could  not  buy  the  land. 
I  have  played  there  many  and  many  a  time ! ' 


THE  RED  HOUSE.  345 

"'M.  Walhenfer,  haven't  you  also  your  hoc  erat  in  votis  ? ' 
asked  Wilhelm. 

"  '  Yes,  sir,  yes  !  But  it  all  came  to  me  as  it  was,  and  now 
'  the  good  man  stopped  short  and  said  no  more. 

"  '  For  my  own  part,'  said  the  landlord,  whose  countenance 
was  slightly  flushed,  '  I  bought  a  bit  of  meadow  last  year  that 
I  had  set  my  mind  on  these  ten  years  past.' 

"  So  they  chatted  on,  as  folk  will  talk  when  wine  has  un- 
loosed their  tongues,  and  struck  up  one  of  those  travelers' 
friendships  that  we  are  a  little  chary  of  making  on  a  journey, 
in  such  a  way  that  when  they  rose  to  go  to  their  room  Wil- 
helm offered  his  bed  to  the  merchant. 

"'You  can  take  the  offer  without  hesitation,'  he  said, 
'  for  Prosper  and  I  can  sleep  together.  It  will  not  be  the  first 
time  nor  the  last  either,  I  expect.  You  are  the  oldest  among 
us,  and  we  ought  to  honor  old  age.' 

"  '  Pooh  ! '  said  the  landlord,  '  there  are  several  mattresses 
on  our  bed,  one  can  be  laid  on  the  floor  for  you,'  and  he  went 
to  shut  the  window  with  the  usual  clatter  caused  by  this  pre- 
caution. 

"  'I  accept  your  offer,'  said  the  merchant,  addressing  Wil- 
helm. '  I  confess,'  he  added,  lowering  his  voice,  and  looking 
at  the  friends,  '  that  I  wanted  you  to  make  it.  I  feel  that  I 
cannot  trust  my  boatmen  ;  and  I  am  not  sorry  to  find  myself 
in  the  company  of  two  decent  young  fellows,  two  French 
military  men,  moreover,  for  the  night.  I  have  a  hundred 
thousand  francs  in  gold  and  diamonds  in  that  valise.' 

"The  two  younger  men  received  this  incautious  communi- 
cation with  a  discreet  friendliness  that  reassured  the  worthy 
German.  The  landlord  helped  his  guests  to  shift  one  of  the 
mattresses,  and,  when  things  had  been  arranged  as  comfortably 
as  possible,  wished  them  good-night  and  went  off  to  bed. 
The  merchant  and  the  surgeons  joked  each  other  about  their 
pillows.  Prosper  put  Wilhelm's  case  of  surgical  instru- 
ments, as  well  as  his  own,  under  the  mattress,  to  raise  the  end 


846  THE  RED  HOUSE. 

and  supply  the  place  of  a  bolster,  just  as  Walhenfer,  in  an 
excess  of  extreme  caution,  bestowed  his  valise  in  a  like 
manner. 

" '  We  are  both  going  to  sleep  on  our  fortunes — you  on 
your  money,  and  I  on  my  case  of  instruments !  It  remains 
to  be  seen  whether  my  case  will  bring  me  in  as  much  money  as 
you  have  made.' 

"'You  may  hope  so,'  said  the  merchant.  '  Honest  work 
will  accomplish  most  things,  but  you  must  have  patience.' 

"  Before  very  long  Walhenfer  and  Wilhelm  fell  asleep.  But 
whether  it  was  because  his  bed  was  too  hard,  or  he  himself 
was  overtired  and  wakeful,  or  through  some  unlucky  mood  of 
mind,  Prosper  Magnan  lay  wide  awake.  Imperceptibly  his 
thoughts  took  an  ill  turn.  He  could  think  of  nothing  but 
that  hundred  thousand  francs  beneath  the  merchant's  pillow. 
For  him  a  hundred  thousand  francs  was  a  vast  fortune  ready 
made.  He  began  by  laying  out  the  money  in  endless  ways, 
building  castles  in  the  air,  as  we  are  all  apt  to  do  with  so 
much  enjoyment  just  before  we  drop  off  to  sleep,  when  indis- 
tinct and  hazy  ideas  arise  in  our  minds,  and  not  seldom  night 
and  silence  give  a  magical  vividness  to  our  thoughts. 

"  In  these  visions  Prosper  Magnan  overtopped  his  mother's 
ambitions ;  he  bought  the  thirty  acres  of  meadow,  and  mar- 
ried a  young  lady  in  Beauvais,  to  whose  hand  he  could  not 
aspire  at  present  owing  to  inequality  of  fortune.  With  this 
wealth  he  planned  out  a  whole  pleasant  lifetime,  saw  himself 
the  prosperous  father  of  a  family,  rich,  looked  up  to  in  the 
neighborhood,  possibly  even  mayor  of  Beauvais.  The  Picard 
head  was  on  fire ;  he  cast  about  for  the  means  of  realizing  these 
dreams  of  his.  With  extraordinary  warmth  of  imagination  he 
set  himself  to  plan  out  a  crime,  and  gold  and  diamonds  were 
the  most  vivid  and  distinct  portion  of  a  vision  of  the  mer- 
chant's death  ;  the  glitter  dazzled  him.  His  heart  beat  fast. 
He  had  committed  a  crime,  no  doubt,  by  harboring  such 
thoughts  as  these.  The  spell  of  the  gold  was  upon  him ;  his 


THE   RED  HOUSE.  347 

moral  nature  was  intoxicated  by  insidious  reasonings.  He 
asked  himself  whether  there  was  any  reason  why  the  poor 
German  should  live,  and  imagined  how  it  would  have  been 
if  he  had  never  existed.  To  put  it  briefly,  he  plotted  out  a 
way  to  do  the  deed  with  complete  impunity. 

"  The  Austrians  held  the  other  bank  of  the  Rhine  ;  a  boat 
lay  there  under  the  windows  ;  there  were  boatmen  there ;  he 
could  cut  the  man's  throat,  fling  him  into  the  Rhine,  escape 
with  the  valise  through  a  casement,  bribe  the  boatmen,  and  go 
over  to  the  Austrian  side.  He  even  went  so  far  as  to  count 
upon  his  surgeon's  dexterity  with  the  knife  ;  he  knew  of  a 
way  of  decapitating  his  victim  before  the  sleeper  could  utter 
a  single  shriek." 

M.  Taillefer  wiped  his  forehead  at  this  point,  and  again  he 
drank  a  little  water. 

"  Then  Prosper  Magnan  rose — slowly  and  noiselessly.  He 
assured  himself  that  he  had  awakened  nobody,  dressed  and 
went  into  the  public  room.  Then,  with  the  fatal  lucidity  of 
mind  that  suddenly  comes  at  certain  crises,  with  the  height- 
ened power  of  intuition  and  strength  of  will  that  is  never  lack- 
ing to  criminals  or  to  prisoners  in  the  execution  of  their  de- 
signs, he  unscrewed  the  iron  bars,  and  drew  them  from  their 
sockets,  and  set  them  against  the  wall  without  the  slightest 
sound,  hanging  with  all  his  weight  on  to  the  shutters  lest  they 
should  creak  as  they  turned  on  their  hinges.  In  the  pale 
moonlight  he  could  dimly  see  the  objects  in  the  room  where 
Wilhelm  and  Walhenfer  were  sleeping. 

"  Then,  he  told  me,  he  stopped  short  for  a  moment.  His 
heart  beat  so  hard  and  so  heavily  that  the  sound  seemed  to 
ring  through  the  room,  and  he  stood  like  one  dismayed  as  he 
heard  it.  He  began  to  fear  for  his  coolness ;  his  hands  shook, 
he  felt  as  if  he  were  standing  on  burning  coals.  But  so  fair 
a  prospect  depended  upon  the  execution  of  his  design  that 
he  saw  something  like  a  providence  in  this  dispensation  of  fate 
that  had  brought  the  merchant  thither.  He  opened  the  win- 


348  THE  RED  HOUSE. 

dow,  went  back  to  his  room,  took  up  his  case,  and  looked 
through  it  for  an  instrument  best  adapted  to  his  purpose. 

"'And  when  I  stood  by  the  bed'  (he  told  me  this),  'I 
asked  God  for  His  protection,  unthinkingly." 

"  He  had  just  raised  his  arm,  and  was  summoning  all  his 
strength  for  the  blow,  when  something  like  a  voice  cried  within 
him,  and  he  thought  he  saw  a  light.  He  flung  down  the  sur- 
gical instrument  on  his  bed,  fled  into  the  next  room,  and  stood 
at  the  window.  A  profound  horror  of  himself  came  over  him, 
and  feeling  how  little  he  could  trust  himself,  fearing  to  yield 
to  the  fascination  that  held  him,  he  sprang  quickly  out  of  the 
window  and  walked  along  by  the  Rhine,  acting  as  sentinel,  as 
it  were,  before  the  inn.  Again  and  again  he  walked  restlessly 
to  and  from  Andernach,  often  also  his  wanderings  led  him  to 
the  slope  of  the  ravine  which  they  had  descended  that  after- 
noon to  reach  the  inn ;  but  so  deep  was  the  silence  of  the 
night,  and  so  strong  his  dread  of  arousing  the  watch-dogs, 
that  he  kept  away  from  the  Red  House,  and  lost  sight  alto- 
gether more  than  once  of  the  window  that  he  had  left  open. 
He  tried  to  weary  himself  out,  and  so  to  induce  sleep.  Yet, 
as  he  walked  to  and  fro  under  the  cloudless  sky,  watching  the 
brilliant  stars,  it  may  be  that  the  pure  night  air  and  the  mel- 
ancholy lapping  of  the  water  wrought  upon  him  and  restored 
him  by  degrees  to  moral  sanity.  Sober  reason  completed  the 
work  and  dispelled  that  short-lived  madness.  His  education, 
the  precepts  of  religion,  and,  above  all  things  (so  he  told  me), 
visions  of  the  homely  life  that  he  had  led  beneath  his  father's 
roof,  got  the  better  of  his  evil  thoughts.  He  thought  and 
pondered  for  long,  his  elbow  resting  on  a  boulder  by  the  side 
of  the  Rhine  ;  and  when  he  turned  to  go  in  again,  he  could 
not  only  have  slept,  so  he  said,  but  have  watched  over  millions 
of  gold. 

"  When  his  honesty  emerged  strengthened  and  triumphant 
from  that  ordeal,  he  knelt  in  joy  and  ecstasy  to  thank  God  ; 
he  felt  as  happy,  light-hearted,  and  contented  as  on  the  day 


THE  RED  HOUSE.  349 

when  he  took  the  sacrament  for  the  first  time,  and  felt  not 
unworthy  of  the  angels  because  he  had  spent  the  day  without 
sin  in  thought,  or  word,  or  deed. 

"  He  went  back  again  to  the  inn,  shut  the  window  without 
care  to  move  noiselessly,  and  went  to  bed  at  once.  Mind  and 
body  were  utterly  exhausted,  and  sleep  overcame  him.  He 
had  scarcely  laid  his  head  on  the  mattress  before  the  dreamy 
drowsiness  that  precedes  sound  slumber  crept  over  him  ;  when 
the  senses  grow  torpid,  conscious  life  ebbs  away,  thought  grows 
fragmentary,  and  the  last  communications  of  sense  to  the 
brain  are  like  the  impressions  of  a  dream. 

"  '  How  close  the  air  is  ! '  said  Prosper  to  himself.  '  It  is 
just  as  if  I  were  breathing  a  damp  mist ' 

"  Dimly  he  sought  to  account  for  this  state  of  things  by 
attributing  it  to  the  difference  between  the  outside  tempera- 
ture in  the  pure  country  air  and  the  closed  room  ;  but  before 
long  he  heard  a  constantly  recurring  sound,  very  much  like 
the  slow  drip  of  water  from  a  leaking  tap.  On  an  impulse  of 
panic  terror,  he  thought  of  rising  and  calling  the  landlord,  or 
the  merchant,  or  Wilhelm  ;  but,  for  his  misfortune,  he  be- 
thought himself  of  the  wooden  clock  in  the  next  room, 
fancied  that  the  sound  was  the  beat  of  the  pendulum,  and 
dropped  off  to  sleep  with  this  dim  and  confused  idea  in  his 
head." 

"  Do  you  want  some  water,  M.  Taillefer?  "  asked  the  master 
of  the  house,  seeing  the  banker  take  up  the  empty  decanter 
mechanically. 

M.  Hermann  went  on  with  his  story  after  the  slight  inter- 
ruption of  the  banker's  reply. 

"The  next  morning,"  he  went  on,  "  Prosper  Magnan  was 
awakened  by  a  great  noise.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  had 
heard  shrill  cries,  and  he  felt  that  violent  nervous  tremor 
which  we  experience  when  we  wake  to  a  painful  sensation 
that  began  during  slumber.  The  thing  that  takes  place  in  us 
when  we  'wake  with  a  start,'  to  use  the  common  expression, 


350  THE  RED  HOUSE. 

has  been  insufficiently  investigated,  though  it  presents  inter- 
esting problems  to  physiological  science.  The  terrible  shock, 
caused  it  may  be  by  the  too  sudden  reunion  of  the  two  natures 
in  us  that  are  almost  always  apart  while  we  sleep,  is  usually 
momentary,  but  it  was  not  so  for  the  unlucky  young  surgeon. 
The  horror  grew,  and  his  hair  bristled  hideously  all  at  once, 
when  he  saw  a  pool  of  blood  between  his  own  mattress  and 
Walhenfer's  bedstead.  The  unfortunate  German's  head  was 
lying  on  the  floor,  the  body  was  still  on  the  bed,  all  this  blood 
had  drained  from  the  neck.  Prosper  Magnan  saw  Walhenfer's 
eyes  unclosed  and  staring,  saw  red  on  the  sheets  that  he  had 
slept  in,  and  even  on  his  own  hands,  saw  his  own  surgeon's 
knife  on  the  bed,  and  fainted  away  on  the  blood-stained 
floor. 

"  '  I  was  punished  already  for  my  thoughts,'  he  said  to  me 
afterwards. 

"  When  he  came  to  himself  again,  he  was  sitting  in  a  chair 
in  the  public  room  of  the  inn,  a  group  of  French  soldiers 
round  about  him,  and  an  inquisitive  and  interested  crowd. 
He  stared  in  dull  bewilderment  at  a  Republican  officer  who 
was  busy  taking  down  the  depositions  of  several  witnesses 
and  drawing  up  an  official  report ;  he  recognized  the  landlord 
and  his  wife,  the  two  boatmen,  and  the  maidservant.  The 
surgical  instrument  used  by  the  murderer " 

Here  M.  Taillefer  coughed,  drew  out  his  pocket-handker- 
chief, and  wiped,  his  forehead.  His  movements  were  so 
natural  that  I  alone  noticed  them ;  indeed,  all  eyes  were 
fixed  on  M.  Hermann  with  a  kind  of  greedy  interest.  The 
army-contractor  leaned  his  elbow  on  the  table,  propped  his 
head  on  his  right  hand,  and  looked  fixedly  at  Hermann. 
From  that  time  forward  I  saw  no  involuntary  signs  of  agitation 
nor  of  interest  in  the  tale,  but  his  face  was  grave  and  corpse- 
like  ;  he  looked  just  as  he  had  done  while  he  was  playing  with 
the  decanter-stopper. 

"  The  surgical  instrument  used  by  the  murderer  lay  on  the 


THE  RED  HOUSE.  351 

table,  beside  the  case  with  Prosper' s  pocket-book  and  papers. 
The  crowd  looked  by  turns  at  the  young  surgeon  and  at  these 
convincing  proofs  of  his  guilt ;  he  himself  appeared  to  be 
dying ;  his  dull  eyes  seemed  to  have  no  power  of  sight  in 
them.  A  confused  murmur  outside  made  it  evident  that  a 
crowd  had  gathered  about  the  inn,  attracted  by  the  news  of 
the  murder,  and  perhaps  by  a  wish  to  catch  a  sight  of  the 
criminal.  The  tramp  of  the  sentries  posted  under  the  windows 
and  the  clanking  of  their  weapons  rose  over  the  whispered 
talk  of  the  populace.  The  inn  itself  was  shut  up,  the  court- 
yard was  silent  and  deserted. 

"The  gaze  of  the  officer  who  was  drawing  up  the  report 
was  intolerable ;  Prosper  Magnan  felt  some  one  grasp  his 
hand  ;  looked  up  to  see  who  it  was  that  stood  by  him  among 
that  unfriendly  crowd,  and  recognized,  by  the  uniform  that 
he  wore,  the  senior  surgeon  of  the  demi-brigade  quartered  in 
Andernach.  So  keen  and  merciless  were  those  eyes  that  the 
poor  young  fellow  shuddered,  and  his  head  dropped  on  to  the 
back  of  the  chair.  One  of  the  men  held  vinegar  for  him  to 
inhale,  and  Prosper  regained  consciousness  at  once;  but  his 
haggard  eyes  were  so  destitute  of  life  and  intelligence  that 
the  senior  surgeon  felt  his  pulse,  and  spoke  to  the  officer : 

"  '  Captain,'  he  said,  '  it  is  impossible  to  examine  the  man 
just  now ' 

"  'Very  well.  Take  him  away,'  returned  the  captain,  cut- 
ting the  surgeon  short,  and  speaking  to  a  corporal  who  stood 
behind  the  junior's  chair. 

"  '  Confounded  scoundrel ! '  the  man  muttered  ;  '  try  at 
least  to  hold  up  your  head  before  these  German  beggars,  to 
save  the  honor  of  the  Republic.' 

"  Thus  adjured,  Prosper  Magnan  came  to  his  senses,  rose, 
and  went  forward  a  few  paces ;  but  when  the  door  opened, 
when  he  felt  the  outer  air,  and  saw  the  people  crowding  up, 
all  his  strength  failed  him,  his  knees  bent  under  him,  he  tot- 
tered. 


352  THE  RED  HOUSE. 

"  '  The  confounded  sawbones  deserves  to  be  put  an  end  to 
twice  over  !  March,  can't  you  1 '  said  the  two  men  on  either 
side  of  him,  on  whom  he  leaned. 

"  '  Oh,  the  coward  !  the  coward  !  Here  he  comes  !  here 
he  comes  !  There  he  is  ! ' 

"  The  words  were  uttered  as  by  one  voice,  the  clamorous 
voice  of  the  mob  who  hemmed  him  in,  insulting  and  reviling 
him  at  every  step.  During  the  time  that  it  took  to  go  from 
the  inn  to  the  prison,  the  trampling  feet  of  the  crowd  and 
the  soldiers  who  guarded  him,  the  muttered  talk  of  those 
about  him,  the  sky  above,  the  morning  air,  the  streets  of  An- 
dernach,  the  rippling  murmur  of  the  current  of  the  Rhine, 
all  reached  him  as  dull,  vague  impressions,  confused  and  dim, 
like  all  his  experiences  since  his  awakening.  At  times  he 
thought  that  he  had  ceased  to  exist,  so  he  told  me  after- 
wards. 

"  I  myself  was  in  prison  just  then,"  said  M.  Hermann,  in- 
terrupting himself.  "  We  are  all  enthusiasts  at  twenty.  I 
was  on  fire  to  defend  my  country,  and  commanded  a  volun- 
teer troop  raised  in  and  about  Andernach.  A  short  time  pre- 
viously, I  managed  to  fall  in  one  night  with  a  French  detach- 
ment of  eight  hundred  men.  There  were  two  hundred  of  us 
at  the  most ;  my  scouts  had  betrayed  me.  I  was  thrown  into 
the  prison  at  Andernach  while  they  debated  whether  or  no  to 
have  me  shot  by  way  of  a  warning  to  the  country.  The  French, 
moreover,  talked  of  reprisals,  but  the  murder  for  which  they 
had  a  mind  to  avenge  themselves  on  me  turned  out  to  have 
been  committed  outside  the  Electorate.  My  father  had  ob- 
tained a  reprieve  of  three  days,  to  make  application  for  my 
pardon  to  General  Augereau,  who  granted  it. 

"  So  I  saw  Prosper  Magnan  as  soon  as  I  came  into  the 
prison  at  Andernach,  and  the  first  sight  of  him  filled  me  with 
the  deepest  pity  for  him.  Haggard,  exhausted,  and  blood- 
stained though  he  was,  there  was  a  certain  frankness  in  his 
face  that  convinced  me  of  his  innocence,  and  made  a  deep 


THE  RED   HOUSE.  353 

impression  upon  me.  It  was  as  if  Germany  stood  there  visibly 
before  me — the  prisoner  with  the  long,  fair  hair  and  blue  eyes 
was  for  my  imagination  the  very  personification  of  the  pros- 
trate Fatherland — this  was  no  murderer,  but  a  victim.  As 
he  went  past  my  window,  a  sad,  bitter  smile  lit  up  his  face  for 
a  moment,  as  if  a  transitory  gleam  of  sanity  crossed  a  disor- 
dered brain.  Such  a  smile  would  surely  not  be  seen  on  a 
murderer's  lips.  When  I  next  saw  the  turnkey,  I  asked  him 
about  his  new  prisoner. 

"  '  He  hasn't  said  a  word  since  he  went  into  his  cell.  He 
sits  there  with  his  head  on  his  hands,  and  sleeps  or  thinks 
about  his  trouble.  From  what  I  hear  the  Frenchmen  saying, 
they  will  settle  his  case  to-morrow,  and  he  will  be  shot  within 
twenty-four  hours.' 

"  That  evening  I  lingered  a  little  under  his  windows  during 
the  short  time  allowed  for  exercise  in  the  prison-yard.  We 
talked  together,  and  he  told  me  very  simply  the  story  of  his 
ill-luck,  giving  sufficiently  straightforward  answers  to  my  dif- 
ferent questions.  After  that  conversation  I  no  longer  doubted 
his  innocence.  I  asked  and  obtained  the  favor  of  spending  a 
few  hours  in  his  company,  and  saw  him  in  this  way  several 
times.  The  poor  boy  let  me  into  the  secret  of  his  thoughts 
without  reserve.  In  his  own  opinion,  he  was  at  once  innocent 
and  guilty.  He  remembered  the  hideous  temptation  which  he 
had  found  strength  to  resist,  and  was  afraid  that  he  had  com- 
mitted the  murder  planned  while  he  was  awake  in  an  access 
of  somnambulism. 

"  '  But  how  about  your  companion  ? '  said  I. 

"  '  Oh,  Wilhelm  is  incapable  ! '  he  cried  vehemently. 

He  did  not  even  finish  the  sentence.  I  grasped  his  hand 
at  the  warm-hearted  outburst,  so  fraught  with  youth  and 
virtue. 

"  '  I  expect  he  was  frightened  when  he  woke,'  he  said ;  '  he 
must  have  lost  his  presence  of  mind  and  fled ' 

"'Without  waking  you?'  I  asked.  'Why,  in  that  case 
23 


354  THE  RED  HOUSE. 

your  defence  is  soon  made,  for  Walhenfer's  valise  will  not 
have  been  stolen.' 

"All  at  once  he  burst  into  tears. 

'"Oh,  yes,  yes!  '  he  cried;  'I  am  not  guilty.  I  cannot 
have  killed  him.  I  remember  the  dreams  I  had.  I  was  at 
school,  playing  at  prisoners-base.  I  could  not  have  cut  his 
throat  while  I  was  dreaming  of  running  about.' 

"But  in  spite  of  the  gleams  of  hope  that  quieted  his  mind 
somewhat  at  times,  he  still  felt  crushed  by  the  weight  of  re- 
morse. There  was  no  blinking  the  fact  he  had  raised  his 
arm  to  strike  the  blow.  He  condemned  himself,  and  con- 
sidered that  he  was  morally  guilty  after  committing  the  crime 
in  imagination. 

"  '  And  yet,  I  am  not  a  bad  fellow,'  he  cried.  '  Oh,  poor 
mother !  Perhaps  just  now  she  is  happily  playing  at  cards 
with  her  friends  in  the  little  tapestried  room  at  home.  If  she 
knew  that  I  had  so  much  as  raised  my  hand  to  take  another 
man's  life — Oh !  it  would  kill  her !  And  I  am  in  prison, 
and  accused  of  murder !  If  I  did  not  kill  the  man,  I  shall 
certainly  be  the  death  of  my  mother  ! ' 

"  He  shed  no  tears  as  he  spoke.  In  a  wild  fit  of  frenzy, 
not  uncommon  among  Picards,  he  sprang  up,  and,  if  I  had 
not  forcibly  restrained  him,  would  have  dashed  his  head 
against  the  wall. 

"  'Wait  until  you  have  been  tried,'  I  said.  'You  will  be 
acquitted ;  you  are  innocent.  And  your  mother ' 

"'My  mother,'  he  cried  wildly;  'my  mother  will  hear 
that  I  have  been  accused  of  murder,  that  is  the  main  point. 
You  always  hear  things  like  that  in  little  places,  and  my  poor 
mother  will  die  of  grief.  Besides,  I  am  not  innocent.  Do 
you  care  to  know  the  whole  truth  !  I  feel  that  I  have  lost  the 
virginity  of  my  conscience.' 

"With  those  terrible  words,  he  sat  down,  folded  his  arms 
across  his  chest,  bowed  his  head,  and  fixed  his  eyes  gloomily 
on  the  floor.  Just  then  the  turnkey  came  to  bid  me  return  to 


THE  RED  HOUSE.  355 

my  cell ;  but  loth  to  leave  my  companion  when  his  discourage- 
ment seemed  at  its  blackest,  I  clasped  him  in  a  friendly 
embrace.  '  Be  patient,'  I  said,  '  perhaps  it  will  all  come 
right.  If  an  honest  man's  opinion  can  silence  your  doubts, 
I  tell  you  this — that  I  esteem  you  and  love  you.  Accept  my 
friendship  and  repose  on  my  heart,  if  you  cannot  feel  at  peace 
with  your  own.' 

"  On  the  following  day,  about  nine  o'clock,  a  corporal  and 
four  fusiliers  came  for  the  assistant  surgeon.  I  heard  the 
sound  of  the  soldiers'  footsteps,  and  went  to  the  window; 
our  eyes  met  as  he  crossed  the  court.  Never  shall  I  forget  the 
glance  fraught  with  so  many  thoughts  and  forebodings,  nor 
the  resignation  and  indescribably  sad  and  melancholy  sweet- 
ness in  his  expression.  In  that  dumb  swift  transference  of 
thought  my  friend  conveyed  his  testament  to  me  ;  he  left  his 
lost  life  to  the  one  friend  who  was  beside  him  at  the  last. 

"  That  night  must  have  been  very  hard  to  live  through,  a 
very  lonely  night  for  him  ;  but  perhaps  the  pallor  that  over- 
spread his  face  was  a  sign  of  a  newly-acquired  stoicism,  based 
on  a  new  view  of  himself.  Perhaps  he  felt  purified  by  re- 
morse, and  thought  to  expiate  his  sin  in  this  anguish  and 
shame.  He  walked  with  a  firm  step ;  and  I  noticed  that  he 
had  removed  the  accidental  stains  of  blood  that  soiled  his 
clothing  the  night  before. 

"  '  Unluckily  I  stained  my  hands  while  I  was  asleep;  I 
always  was  an  uneasy  sleeper,'  he  had  said,  a  dreadful  despair 
in  the  tones  of  his  voice. 

"I  was  told  that  he  was  about  to  be  tried  by  a  court- 
martial.  The  division  was  to  go  forward  in  two  days'  time, 
and  the  commandant  of  the  demi-brigade  meant  to  try  the 
criminal  on  the  spot  before  leaving  Andernach. 

"While  that  court-martial  was  sitting,  I  was  in  an  agony 
of  suspense.  It  was  noon  before  they  brought  Prosper 
Magnan  back  to  prison.  I  was  taking  my  prescribed  exercise 
when  he  came ;  he  saw  me,  and  rushed  into  my  arms. 


356  THE  RED  HOUSE, 

"  '  I  am  lost !  '  he  said.  '  Lost  beyond  hope  !  Every  one 
here  must  look  on  me  as  a  murderer ' 

"Then  he  raised  his  head  proudly.  ' This  injustice  has  com- 
pletely given  me  back  my  innocence,'  he  said.  '  If  I  had 
lived,  my  life  must  always  have  been  troubled,  but  my  death 
shall  be  without  reproach.  But  is  there  anything  beyond  ?  ' 

"  The  whole  eighteenth  century  spoke  in  that  sudden 
questioning.  He  was  absorbed  in  thought. 

"  '  But  what  did  you  tell  them  ?  What  did  they  ask  you  ?  ' 
I  cried.  '  Did  you  not  tell  them  the  simple  truth  as  you  told 
it  to  me  ?  ' 

"He  gazed  at  me  for  a  minute,  then  after  the  brief,  dread- 
ful pause,  he  answered  with  a  feverish  readiness  of  speech — 

"  '  First  of  all  they  asked  me — "  Did  you  go  out  of  the  inn 
during  the  night?  "  "Yes,"  I  told  them.  "How  did  you 
get  out?"  I  turned  red,  and  answered,  "Through  the 
window."  "Then  you  must  have  opened  it?"  "Yes,"  I 
said.  "You  set  about  it  very  cautiously;  the  landlord  heard 
nothing  !  "  I  was  like  one  stupefied  all  the  time.  The  boat- 
men swore  that  they  had  seen  me  walking,  sometimes  towards 
Andernach,  sometimes  towards  the  forest.  I  went  to  and  fro 
many  times,  they  said.  I  had  buried  the  gold  and  diamonds. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  valise  has  not  been  found.  Then,  the 
whole  time,  I  myself  was  struggling  against  remorse.  When- 
ever I  opened  my  mouth  t*o  speak,  a  merciless  voice  seemed 
to  cry,  "  You  meant  to  do  it!"  Everything  was  against  me, 
even  myself !  They  wanted  to  know  about  my  comrade,  and 
I  completely  exonerated  him.  Then  they  said,  "  One  of  you 
four  must  be  guilty — you  or  your  comrade,  the  innkeeper  or 
his  wife.  All  the  doors  and  windows  were  shut  fast  this 
morning!  "  When  they  said  that,'  he  went  on,  'I  had  no 
voice,  no  strength,  no  spirit  left  in  me.  I  was  more  sure  of 
my  friend  than  of  myself;  I  saw  very  well  that  they  thought 
us  both  equally  guilty  of  the  murder,  and  I  was  the  clumsier 
one  of  the  two.  I  tried  to  explain  the  thing  by  somnam- 


THE  RED  HOUSE.  357 

bulism  ;  I  tried  to  clear  my  friend  ;  then  I  got  muddled,  and 
it  was  all  over  with  me.  I  read  my  sentence  in  the  judges' 
eyes.  Incredulous  smiles  stole  across  their  faces.  That  is  all. 

The  suspense  is  over.  I  am  to  be  shot  to-morrow I  do 

not  think  of  myself  now,'  he  said,  '  but  of  my  poor  mother.' 

"  He  stopped  short  and  looked  up  to  heaven.  He  shed  no 
tears ;  his  eyes  were  dry  and  contracted  with  pain. 

"  Frederic  ! 

"  Ah  !  I  remember  now  !  The  other  one  was  called  Fr6d- 
eric — Frederic  !  Yes,  I  am  sure  that  was  the  name,"  M. 
Hermann  exclaimed  triumphantly. 

I  felt  the  pressure  of  my  fair  neighbor's  foot ;  she  made  a 
sign  to  me,  and  looked  across  at  M.  Taillefer.  The  some- 
time army-contractor's  hand  drooped  carelessly  over  his  eyes, 
but  through  the  fingers  we  thought  we  saw  a  smouldering 
blaze  in  them. 

"Eh?"  she  said  in  my  ear,  "and  now  suppose  that  his 
name  is  Frederic?  " 

I  gave  the  lady  a  side  glance  of  entreaty  to  be  silent.  Her- 
mann went  on  with  his  tale. 

"  '  It  is  cowardly  of  Frederic  to  leave  me  to  my  fate.  He 
must  have  been  afraid.  Perhaps  he  is  hiding  in  the  inn,  for 
both  our  horses  were  there  in  the  yard  that  morning.  What 
an  inexplicable  mystery  it  is  ! '  he  added,  after  a  pause. 
'  Somnambulism,  somnambulism !  I  never  walked  in  my 
sleep  but  once  in  my  life,  and  then  I  was  not  six  years  old. 
And  I  am  to  go  out  of  this,'  he  went  on,  striking  his  foot 
against  the  earth,  'and  take  with  me  all  the  friendship  that 
there  is  in  the  world !  Must  I  die  twice  over,  doubting  the 
friendship  that  began  when  we  were  five  years  old,  and  lasted 
through  all  our  school-life  and  our  student  days !  Where  is 
Frederic  ? ' 

"  The  tears  filled  his  eyes.  We  cling  more  closely  to  a 
sentiment  than  to  our  life,  it  seems ! 

"  'Let  us  go  in  again,'  he  said;  'I  would  rather  be  in  my 


358  THE  RED  HOUSE. 

cell.  I  don't  mean  them  to  see  me  crying.  I  shall  go  bravely 
to  my  death,  but  I  cannot  play  the  hero  in  season  and  out  of 
season,  and  I  confess  that  I  am  sorry  to  leave  my  life,  my  fair 
life,  and  my  youth.  I  did  not  sleep  last  night ;  I  remembered 
places  about  my  home  when  I  was  a  child  ;  I  saw  myself  run- 
ning about  in  the  meadows,  perhaps  it  was  the  memories  of 
those  fields  that  led  to  my  ruin.  I  had  a  future  before  me  ' 
(he  interrupted  himself).  'A  dozen  men,  a  sub-lieutenant 
who  will  cry,  "  Ready  !  present !  fire  !  "  a  roll  of  drums,  and 
disgrace !  that  is  my  future  now  !  Ah  !  there  is  a  God,  there 
is  a  God,  or  all  this  would  be  too  nonsenical.' 

"  Then  he  grasped  my  arm,  put  his  arms  about  me  and  held 
me  tightly  to  him. 

"  'Ah  !  you  are  the  last  human  soul  to  whom  I  can  pour 
out  my  soul.  You  will  be  free  again  !  You  will  see  your 
mother !  I  do  not  know  whether  you  are  rich  or  poor,  but 
no  matter  for  that,  you  are  all  the  world  for  me.  They  cannot 
keep  the  fighting  up  forever.  Well  and  good  then,  when 
they  make  peace,  go  to  Beauvais.  If  my  mother  survives  the 
disastrous  news  of  my  death,  you  will  find  her  out  and  tell  her 
"  He  was  innocent,"  to  comfort  her.  She  will  believe  you,' 
he  went  on.  '  I  shall  write  to  her  as  well,  but  you  will  carry 
my  last  look  to  her;  you  shall  tell  her  how  that  you  were  the  last 
friend  whom  I  embraced  before  I  died.  Ah !  how  she  will 
love  you,  my  poor  mother,  you  who  have  stood  my  friend  at 
the  last ! '  He  was  silent  for  a  moment  or  two,  the  burden  of 
his  memories  seemed  too  heavy  for  him  to  bear.  '  Here  they 
are  all  strangers  to  me,'  he  said,  'the  other  surgeons  and  the 
men,  and  they  all  shrink  from  me  in  horror.  But  for  you, 
my  innocence  must  remain  a  secret  between  me  and  heaven.' 

"  I  vowed  to  fulfill  his  last  wishes  as  a  sacred  charge.  He 
felt  that  my  heart  went  out  to  him,  and  was  touched  by  my 
words.  A  little  later  the  soldiers  came  back  to  take  him 
before  the  court-martial  again.  He  was  doomed. 

"I  know  nothing  of  the  formalities  or  circumstances  that 


THE  RED  HOUSE.  359 

attend  a  sentence  of  this  kind  ;  I  do  not  know  whether  there 
is  any  appeal,  nor  whether  the  young  surgeon's  defense  was 
made  according  to  rule  and  precedent,  but  he  prepared  to  go 
to  his  death  early  on  the  morrow,  and  spent  that  night  in 
writing  to  his  mother. 

"  '  We  shall  both  be  set  free  to-day,'  he  said,  smiling,  when 
I  went  the  next  day  to  see  him.  '  The  general  has  signed  your 
pardon,  I  hear.' 

"  I  said  nothing,  and  gazed  at  him  to  engrave  his  features 
on  my  memory. 

"  A  look  of  loathing  crossed  his  face,  and  he  said,  '  I  have 
been  a  miserable  coward  !  All  n>ght  long  I  have  been  praying 
the  very  walls  for  mercy,'  and  he  looked  round  his  cell.  'Yes, 
yes,'  he  went  on,  '  I  howled  with  despair,  I  rebelled  against 
this,  I  have  been  through  the  most  fearful  inward  conflict. 
I  was  alone  !  Now  I  am  thinking  of  what  others  will  say  of 
me — Courage  is  like  a  garment  that  we  put  on.  I  must  go 
decently  to  my  death.  And  so '  " 


II.    A  DOUBLE  RETRIBUTION. 

"Oh !  do  not  tell  us  any  more !  "  cried  the  girl  who  had 
asked  for  the  story,  cutting  short  the  Nuremberger.  "  I  want 
to  live  in  suspense,  and  to  believe  that  he  was  saved.  If  I 
were  to  know  to-night  that  they  shot  him,  I  should  not  sleep. 
You  must  tell  me  the  rest  to-morrow." 

We  rose.  M.  Hermann  offered  his  arm  to  my  fair  neighbor, 
who  asked  as  she  took  it,  "  They  shot  him,  did  they  not?  " 

"Yes.     I  was  there." 

"What,  monsieur,  you  could " 

"  He  wished  it,  madame.  It  is  something  very  ghastly  to 
attend  the  funeral  of  a  living  man,  your  own  friend  who  is  not 
guilty  of  the  crime  laid  to  his  charge.  The  poor  young  fellow 


360  THE  RED  HOUSE. 

never  took  his  eyes  off  me.  He  seemed  to  have  no  life  but 
mine  left.  '  He  wished,'  he  said,  '  that  I  should  bear  his  last 
sigh  to  his  mother.'  " 

"  Well,  and  did  you  see  her?  " 

"  After  the  Peace  of  Amiens  I  went  to  France  to  take  the 
glad  tidings,  '  He  was  innocent ! '  That  pilgrimage  was  like 
a  sacred  duty  laid  upon  me.  But  Mme.  Magnan  was  dead,  I 
found  ;  she  had  died  of  consumption.  I  burned  the  letter 
I  had  brought  for  her,  not  without  deep  emotion.  Perhaps 
you  will  laugh  at  my  German  high-flown  sentimentality ;  but 
for  me  there  was  a  tragedy  most  sublimely  sad  in  the  eternal 
silence  which  was  about  to  swallow  up  those  farewells  uttered 
in  vain  from  one  grave  to  another  grave,  and  heard  by  none, 
like  the  cry  of  some  traveler  in  the  desert  surprised  by  a  beast 
of  prey." 

Here  I  broke  in  with  a  "  How  if  some  one  were  to  bring 
you  face  to  face  with  one  of  the  men  in  this  drawing-room, 
and  say,  '  There  is  the  murderer ! '  would  not  that  be  another 
tragedy  ?  And  what  would  you  do  ?  " 

M.  Hermann  took  up  his  hat  and  went. 

"  You  are  acting  like  a  young  man,  and  very  thoughtlessly," 
said  the  lady.  "  Just  look  at  Taillefer  ;  there  he  sits  in  a  low 
chair  by  the  fire,  Mademoiselle  Fanny  is  handing  him  a  cup 
of  coffee  ;  he  is  smiling.  How  could  a  murderer  display  such 
quiet  self-possession  as  that,  after  a  story  that  must  have  been 
torture  to  him?  He  looks  quite  patriarchal,  does  he  not?" 

"Yes;  but  just  ask  him  if  he  has  been  with  the  army  in 
Germany!  "  I  exclaimed. 

"Why  not?"  and  with  the  audacity  rarely  lacking  in 
womankind  when  occasion  tempts  or  curiosity  gets  the  better 
of  her,  my  fair  neighbor  went  across  to  the  army-contractor. 

"Have  you  been  in  Germany,  M.  Taillefer?"  quoth  she. 

Taillefer  all  but  dropped  his  saucer. 

"I,  madame?    No,  never." 

"  Why,  what  is  that  your  are  saying,  Taillefer  ?  "  protested 


THE   RED  HOUSE.  361 

the  banker,  chiming  in.     "You  were  in  the  Wagram  cam- 
paign, were  you  not — on  the  victualing  establishment?  " 
"  Oh,  yes  !  "  answered  Taillefer ;  "  I  was  there,  that  once." 
"You  are  wrong  about  him  ;  he  is  a  good  sort  of  man," 
decided  the  lady  when  she  came  back  to  me. 

"  Very  well,"  said  I  to  myself,  "  before  this  evening  is  over 
I  will  drive  the  murderer  out  of  the  mire  in  which  he  is 
hiding." 

There  is  a  phenomenon  of  consciousness  that  takes  place 
daily  beneath  our  eyes,  so  commonplace  that  no  one  notices 
it,  and  yet  there  are  astounding  depths  beneath  it.  Two  men 
meet  in  a  drawing-room  who  have  some  cause  to  disdain  or  to 
hate  each  other ;  perhaps  one  of  them  knows  something  which 
is  not  to  the  credit  of  the  other ;  perhaps  it  is  a  condition  of 
things  that  is  kept  a  secret ;  perhaps  one  of  them  is  meditating 
a  revenge  ;  but  both  of  them  are  conscious  of  the  gulf  that 
divides  them,  or  that  ought  to  divide  them.  Before  they 
know  it,  they  are  watching  each  other  and  absorbed  in  each 
other ;  some  subtle  emanation  of  their  thought  seems  to  distil 
from  every  look  and  gesture  ;  they  have  a  magnetic  influence. 
Nor  can  I  tell  which  has  the  more  power  of  attraction — 
revenge  or  crime,  hatred  or  contempt.  Like  some  priest  who 
cannot  consecrate  the  house  where  an  evil  spirit  abides,  the 
two  are  ill  at  ease  and  suspicious ;  one  of  them,  it  is  hard  to 
say  which,  is  polite,  and  the  other  sullen  ;  one  of  them  turns 
pale  or  red,  and  the  other  trembles,  and  it  often  happens  that 
the  avenger  is  quite  as  cowardly  as  the  victim.  For  very  few 
of  us  have  the  nerve  to  cause  pain,  even  if  it  is  necessary 
pain,  and  many  a  man  passes  over  a  matter  or  forgives  from 
sheer  hatred  of  fuss  or  dread  of  making  a  tragical  scene. 

With  this  intersusceptibility  of  minds,  and  apprehensive- 
ness  of  thought  and  feeling,  there  began  a  mysterious  struggle 
between  the  army-contractor  and  myself.  Ever  since  my  in- 
terruption of  M.  Hermann's  story  he  had  shunned  my  eyes. 


362  THE   RED  HOUSE. 

Perhaps  in  like  manner  he  looked  none  of  the  party  in  the 
face.  He  was  chatting  now  with  the  inexperienced  Fanny, 
the  banker's  daughter;  probably,  like  all  criminals,  he  felt  a 
longing  to  take  shelter  with  innocence,  as  if  the  mere  prox- 
imity of  innocence  might  bring  him  peace  for  a  while.  But 
though  I  stood  on  the  other  side  of  the  room,  I  still  listened  to 
all  that  he  said  ;  my  direct  gaze  fascinated  him.  When  he 
thought  he  could  glance  at  me  in  turn,  unnoticed,  our  eyes 
met,  and  his  eyelids  fell  directly.  Taillefer  found  this  torture 
intolerable,  and  hastened  to  put  a  stop  to  it  by  betaking  him- 
self to  a  card-table.  I  backed  his  opponent,  hoping  to  lose 
my  money.  It  fell  out  as  I  had  wished.  The  other  player 
left  the  table,  I  cut  in,  and  the  guilty  man  and  I  were  now 
face  to  face. 

"  Monsieur,"  I  said,  as  he  dealt  the  cards,  "  will  you  be  so 
good  as  to  begin  a  fresh  score  ?  "  He  swept  his  counters  from 
right  to  left  somewhat  hastily.  The  lady,  my  neighbor  at 
dinner,  passed  by ;  I  gave  her  a  significant  glance. 

"  M.  Frederic  Taillefer,"  I  asked,  addressing  my  opponent, 
"  are  you  related  to  a  family  in  Beauvais  with  whom  I  am  well 
acquainted  ? ' ' 

"  Yes,  sir."  He  let  the  cards  fall,  turned  pale,  hid  his  face 
in  his  hands,  begged  one  of  his  backers  to  finish  the  game  for 
him,  and  rose. 

"It  is  too  warm  here,"  he  gasped  ;  "  I  am  afraid " 

He  did  not  finish  his  sentence.  An  expression  of  horrible 
anguish  suddenly  crossed  his  face,  and  he  hurried  out  of  the 
room,  the  master  of  the  house  following  him  with  what 
appeared  to  be  keen  anxiety.  My  neighbor  and  I  looked  at 
each  other,  but  her  face  was  overcast  by  indescribable  sadness ; 
there  was  a  tinge  of  bitterness  in  it. 

"Is  your  behavior  very  merciful?"  she  asked,  as  I  rose 
from  the  card-table,  where  I  had  been  playing  and  losing. 
She  drew  me  into  the  embrasure  of  the  window  as  she  spoke. 
"  Would  you  be  willing  to  accept  the  power  of  reading  all 


THE  RED  HOUSE.  363 

hearts  if  you  could  have  it  ?  Why  interfere  with  man's  justice 
or  God's?  We  may  escape  the  one;  we  shall  never  escape 
the  other.  Is  the  prerogative  of  a  president  of  a  court  of 
assize  so  enviable  ?  And  you  have  all  but  done  the  execu- 
tioner's office  as  well " 

"  After  sharing  and  stimulating  my  curiosity,"  I  said,  "  you 
are  lecturing  me  !  " 

"You  have  made  me  think,"  she  answered. 

"  So  it  is  to  be  peace  to  scoundrels  and  woe  to  the  unfor- 
tunate, is  it  ?  Let  us  down  on  our  knees  and  worship  gold  !  But 
shall  we  change  the  subject  ?  "  I  said  with  a  laugh.  "  Please 
look  at  the  young  lady  who  is  just  coming  into  the  room." 

"Well?" 

"  I  met  her  three  days  ago  at  a  ball  at  the  Neapolitan 
embassy,  and  fell  desperately  in  love.  For  pity's  sake,  tell 
me  who  she  is.  No  one  could  tell  me " 

"This  is  Mile.  Victorine  Taillefer!  " 

Everything  swam  before  my  eyes ;  I  could  scarcely  hear  the 
tones  of  the  speaker's  voice. 

"  Her  stepmother  brought  her  home  only  a  while  ago  from 
the  convent  where  she  has  been  finishing  her  education  some- 
what late. For  a  long  time  her  father  would  not  recognize 

her.  She  comes  here  to-day  for  the  first  time.  She  is  very 
handsome — and  very  rich  !  " 

A  sardonic  smile  went  with  the  words.  Just  as  she  spoke, 
we  heard  loud  cries  that  seemed  to  come  from  an  adjoining 
room  ;  stifled  though  they  were,  they  echoed  faintly  through 
the  garden. 

"Is  not  that  M.  Taillefer's  voice?"  I  asked.  We  both 
listened  intently  to  the  sounds,  and  fearful  groans  reached  our 
ears.  Just  then  our  hostess  hurried  towards  us  and  closed  the 
window. 

"  Let  us  avoid  scenes,"  she  said  to  us.  "  If  Mile.  Taille- 
fer were  to  hear  her  father,  it  would  be  quite  enough  to  send 
her  into  a  fit  of  hysterics." 


364  THE   RED   HOUSE. 

The  banker  came  back  to  the  drawing-room,  looked  for 
Victorine,  and  spoke  a  few  low  words  in  her  ear.  The  girl 
sprang  at  once  towards  the  door  with  an  exclamation,  and 
vanished.  This  produced  a  great  sensation.  The  card-parties 
broke  up  ;  every  one  asked  his  neighbor  what  had  happened. 
The  buzz  of  talk  grew  louder,  and  groups  were  formed. 

"  Has  M.  Taillefer ?  "  I  began. 

"Killed  himself?"  put  in  my  sarcastic  friend.  "You 
would  wear  mourning  for  him  with  a  light  heart,  I  can  see." 

"  But  what  can  have  happened  to  him  ?  " 

"  Poor  man  !  "  (it  was  the  lady  of  the  house  who  spoke) 
"  he  suffers  from  a  complaint — I  cannot  recollect  the  name  of 
it,  though  M.  Brousson  has  told  me  about  it  often  enough — 
and  he  has  just  had  a  seizure." 

"What  kind  of  complaint  is  it?"  asked  an  examining 
magistrate  suddenly. 

"Oh,  it  is  something  dreadful,"  she  answered  ;  "and  the 
doctors  can  do  nothing  for  him.  The  agony  must  be  terrible. 
Taillefer  had  a  seizure,  I  remember,  once,  poor  man,  when 
he  was  staying  with  us  in  the  country  ;  I  was  obliged  to  go  to 
a  neighbor's  house  so  as  not  to  hear  him;  his  shrieks  are  fear- 
ful; he  tries  to  kill  himself;  his  daughter  had  to  have  him 
put  into  a  strait  waistcoat  and  tied  down  to  his  bed.  Poor 
man  !  he  says  there  are  live  creatures  in  his  head  gnawing  his 
brain ;  it  is  a  horrible,  sawing,  shooting  pain  that  throbs 
through  every  nerve.  He  suffers  so  fearfully  with  his  head 
that  he  did  not  feel  the  blisters  that  they  used  to  apply  at  one 
time  to  draw  the  inflammation  ;  but  M.  Brousson,  his  present 
doctor,  forbade  this ;  he  says  that  it  is  nervous  inflammation, 
and  puts  leeches  on  the  throat,  and  applies  laudanum  to  the 
head ;  and,  indeed,  since  they  began  this  treatment  the 
attacks  have  been  less  frequent ;  he  seldom  has  them  oftener 
than  once  a  year,  in  the  late  autumn.  When  he  gets  over  one 
of  these  seizures,  Taillefer  always  says  that  he  would  rather  be 
broken  on  the  wheel  than  endure  such  agony  again." 


THE  RED   HOUSE.  365 

"  That  looks  as  if  he  suffered  considerably  !  "  said  a  stock- 
broker, the  wit  of  the  party. 

"Oh!  last  year  he  very  nearly  died,"  the  lady  went  on. 
"He  went  alone  to  his  country-house  on  some  urgent  busi- 
ness ;  there  was  no  one  at  hand  perhaps,  for  he  lay  stiff  and 
stark,  like  one  dead,  for  twenty-two  hours.  They  only  saved 
his  life  by  a  scalding  hot  bath." 

"  Then  is  it  some  kind  of  tetanus?  "  asked  the  stockbroker. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  returned  she.  "  He  has  had  the  com- 
plaint nearly  thirty  years;  it  began  while  he  was  with  the 
army.  He  says  that  he  had  a  fall  on  a  boat,  and  a  splinter 
got  into  his  head,  but  Brousson  hopes  to  cure  him.  People 
say  that  in  England  they  have  found  out  a  way  of  treating  it 
with  prussic  acid,  and  that  you  run  no  risks " 

A  shrill  cry,  louder  than  any  of  the  preceding  ones,  rang 
through  the  house.  The  blood  ran  cold  in  our  veins. 

"  There  !  "  the  banker's  wife  went  on,  "  that  is  just  what  I 
was  expecting  every  moment.  It  makes  me  start  on  my  chair 
and  creep  through  every  nerve.  But — it  is  an  extraordinary 
thing  ! — poor  Taillefer,  suffering  such  unspeakable  pain  as  he 
does,  never  runs  any  risk  of  his  life  !  He  eats  and  drinks  as 
usual  whenever  he  has  a  little  respite  from  that  ghastly  tor- 
ture  Nature  has  such  strange  freaks.  Some  German  doctor 

once  told  him  that  it  was  a  kind  of  gout  in  the  head ;  and 
Brousson's  opinion  was  pretty  much  the  same." 

I  left  the  little  group  about  our  hostess  and  went  out  with 
Mile.  Taillefer.  A  servant  had  come  for  her.  She  was 
crying. 

"  Oh  man  Dieu,  mon  Dieu  !  "  she  sobbed  ;  "  how  can  my 
father  have  offended  heaven  to  deserve  such  suffering  as  this  ? 
So  kind  as  he  is." 

I  went  down  stairs  with  her,  and  saw  her  into  the  carriage; 
her  father  was  lying  doubled  up  inside  it.  Mile.  Taillefer 
tried  to  smother  the  sound  of  her  father's  moaning  by  cover- 
ing his  mouth  with  a  handkerchief.  Unluckily,  he  saw  me, 


366  THE  RED  HOUSE. 

and  his  drawn  face  seemed  further  distorted,  a  scream  of 
agony  rent  the  air,  he  gave  me  a  dreadful  look,  and  the  car- 
riage started. 

That  dinner  party  and  the  evening  that  followed  it  was  to 
exercise  a  painful  influence  on  my  life  and  on  my  views. 
Honor  and  my  own  scruples  forbade  me  to  connect  myself 
with  a  murderer,  no  matter  how  good  a  husband  and  father 
he  might  be,  and  so  I  must  needs  fall  in  love  with  Mile.  Tail- 
lefer.  It  was  wellnigh  incredible  how  often  chance  drew  me 
to  visit  at  houses  where  I  knew  I  might  meet  Victorine. 
Again  and  again,  when  I  had  pledged  myself  to  renounce  her 
society,  the  evening  would  find  me  hovering  about  her.  The 
pleasures  of  this  life  were  immense.  It  gave  the  color  of  an 
illicit  passion  to  this  unforbidden  love,  and  a  chimerical  re- 
morse filled  up  the  measure  of  my  bliss.  I  scorned  myself 
when  I  greeted  Taillefer,  if  by  accident  he  was  with  his 
daughter ;  but,  after  all,  I  bowed  to  him. 

Unluckily,  in  fact,  Victorine,  being  something  more  than 
a  pretty  girl,  was  well  read,  charming,  and  gifted  in  no  small 
degree,  without  being  in  the  least  a  blue-stocking,  without  the 
slightest  taint  of  affectation.  There  is  a  certain  reserve  in 
her  light  talk  and  a  pensive  graciousness  about  her  that  no 
one  could  resist.  She  liked  me,  or,  at  any  rate,  she  allowed  me  to 
think  so  ;  there  was  a  certain  smile  that  she  kept  for  me ;  for 
me  the  tones  of  her  voice  grew  sweeter  still.  Oh  !  she  cared 
about  me,  but  she  worshiped  her  father ;  she  would  praise 
his  kindness  to  me,  his  gentleness,  his  various  perfections, 
and  all  her  praises  were  like  so  many  daggers  thrust  into  my 
heart. 

At  length  I  all  but  became  an  accessory  after  the  fact,  an 
accomplice  in  the  crime  which  had  laid  the  foundation  of  the 
wealth  of  the  Taillefers.  I  was  fain  to  ask  for  Victorine's 
hand.  I  fled.  I  traveled  abroad.  I  went  to  Germany  and 
to  Andernach.  But  I  came  back  again,  and  Victorine  was 


THE  RED  HOUSE,  367 

looking  thinner  and  paler  than  her  wont.  If  she  had  been 
well  and  in  good  spirits,  I  should  have  been  safe  ;  but  now 
the  old  feeling  for  her  was  rekindled  with  extraordinary  vio- 
lence. 

Fearing  lest  my  scruples  were  degenerating  into  mono- 
mania, I  resolved  to  convene  a  Sanhedrim  of  consciences  that 
should  not  have  been  tampered  with,  and  so  to  obtain  some 
light  on  this  problem  of  the  higher  morality  and  philosophy. 
The  question  had  only  become  more  complex  since  my 
return. 

So  the  day  before  yesterday  I  assembled  those  among  my 
friends  whom  I  looked  upon  as  notably  honest,  scrupulous, 
and  honorable.  I  asked  two  Englishmen,  a  secretary  to  the 
embassy  and  a  Puritan ;  a  retired  Minister,  in  the  character 
of  matured  worldly  wisdom ;  a  few  young  men  still  under  the 
illusions  of  inexperiences  ;  a  priest,  an  elderly  man  ;  my  old 
guardian,  a  simple-hearted  being,  who  gave  me  the  best  ac- 
count of  his  management  of  my  property  that  ever  trustee 
has  been  known  to  give  in  the  annals  of  the  Palais ;  an  advo- 
cate, a  notary,  and  a  judge — in  short,  all  social  opinions 
were  represented  and  all  practical  wisdom.  We  had  begun 
by  a  good  dinner,  good  talk,  and  a  deal  of  mirth  ;  and  over 
the  dessert  I  told  my  story  plainly  and  simply  (suppressing 
the  name  of  my  lady-love),  and  asked  for  sound  counsel. 

"  Give  me  your  advice,"  I  said  to  my  friends  as  I  came  to 
an  end.  "  Go  thoroughly  into  the  question  as  if  it  were  a 
point  of  law.  I  will  have  an  urn  and  billiard  balls  brought 
round,  and  you  shall  vote  for  or  against  my  marriage,  the 
secrecy  of  the  ballot  shall  be  scrupulously  observed." 

Deep  silence  prevailed  all  at  once.  Then  the  notary  de- 
clined to  act. 

"  There  is  a  contract  to  draw  up,"  he  alleged. 

Wine  had  had  a  quieting  effect  on  my  guardian;  indeed, 
it  clearly  behooved  me  to  find  a  guardian  for  him  if  he  was  to 
reach  his  home  in  safety. 


368  THE  RED  PI O  USE. 

"  I  see  how  it  is  !  "  I  said  to  myself.  "A  man  who  does 
not  give  me  an  opinion  is  telling  me  pretty  forcibly  what  I 
ought  to  do." 

There  was  a  general  movement  round  the  table.  A  land- 
owner, who  had  subscribed  to  a  fund  for  putting  a  headstone 
to  General  Foy's  grave  and  providing  for  his  family,  ex- 
claimed— 

"  '  Even,  as  virtue,  crime  hath  its  degrees.'  " 

"The  babbler,"  said  the  Minister  in  a  low  voice,  as  he 
nudged  my  elbow. 

"Where  is  the  difficulty?  "  asked  a  duke,  whose  property 
consisted  of  lands  confiscated  from  Protestants  after  the 
Revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes. 

The  advocate  rose  to  his  feet. 

"In  law,"  opined  the  mouthpiece  of  justice,  "the  case 
before  us  presents  no  difficulty  whatever.  Monsieur  le  Due  is 
right!  Is  there  not  a  statute  of  limitations?  Begin  to  in- 
quire into  the  origins  of  a  fortune,  and  where  should  we  all 
of  us  be  ?  This  is  a  matter  of  conscience,  and  not  of  law. 
If  you  must  drag  the  case  before  some  tribunal,  the  con- 
fessional is  the  proper  place  in  which  to  hear  it." 

And  the  Code  incarnate,  having  said  his  say,  sat  down  and 
drank  a  glass  of  champagne.  The  man  intrusted  with  the 
interpretation  of  the  Gospel,  the  good  priest,  spoke  next. 

"God  has  made  us  weak,"  he  said  with  decision.  "If 
you  love  the  criminal's  heiress,  marry  her  ;  but  content  your- 
self with  her  mother's  property,  and  give  her  father's  money 
to  the  poor." 

"Why,  in  all  likelihood  the  father  only  made  a  great 
match  because  he  had  made  money  first,"  cried  one  of  the 
pitiless  quibblers  that  you  meet  with  everywhere.  "  And  it  is 
just  the  same  with  every  little  bit  of  good  fortune — it  all 
came  of  his  crime  !  " 

"  The  fact  that  the  matter  can  be  discussed  is  enough  to 
decide  it !  There  are  some  things  which  a  man  cannot  weigh 


THE  RED  HOUSE.  369 

and  ponder,"  cried  my  guardian,  thinking  to  enlighten  the 
assembly  by  this  piece  of  drunken  gravity. 

"  True  !  "  said  the  secretary  to  the  embassy. 

"True!"  exclaimed  the  priest,  each  meaning  quite 
differently. 

A  doctrinaire,  who  escaped  being  elected  by  a  bare  hundred 
and  fifty  votes  out  of  a  hundred  and  fifty-five,  rose  next. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  he,  "this  phenomenal  manifestation 
of  the  intellectual  nature  is  one  of  the  most  strongly  marked 
instances  of  an  exception  to  the  normal  condition  of  things, 
the  rules  which  society  obeys.  The  decision,  therefore,  on  an 
abnormal  case  should  be  an  extemporaneous  effort  of  the  con- 
science, a  sudden  conception,  a  delicate  discrimination  of  the 
inner  consciousness,  not  unlike  the  flashes  of  insight  that 
constitute  perception  in  matters  of  taste.  Let  us  put  it  to' 
the  vote." 

"  Yes,  let  us  put  it  to  the  vote,"  cried  the  rest  of  the  party. 

Each  was  provided  with  two  billiard-balls — one  white,  the 
other  red.  White,  the  color  of  virginity,  was  to  proscribe 
marriage ;  red  to  count  in  favor  of  it.  My  scruples  pre- 
vented me  from  voting.  My  friends  being  seventeen  in 
number,  nine  made  a  decisive  majority.  We  grew  excited 
and  curious  as  each  dropped  his  ball  into  the  narrow- 
mouthed  wicker  basket,  which  holds  the  numbered  balls  when 
players  draw  for  their  places  at  pool,  for  there  was  a  certain 
novelty  in  this  process  of  voting  by  ballot  on  a  nice  point  of 
conduct.  When  the  basket  was  turned  out  there  were  nine 
white  balls.  To  me  this  did  not  come  as  a  surprise ;  but  it 
occurred  to  me  to  count  up  the  young  men  of  my  own  age 
among  this  court  of  appeal.  There  were  exactly  nine  of 
these  casuists ;  one  thought  had  been  in  all  their  minds. 

"Aha  !  "  I  said  to  myself,  "  there  was  a  unanimous  feeling 
against  the  marriage  in  their  minds,  and  a  no  less  unanimous 
verdict  in  favor  of  it  among  the  rest !     Here  is  a  fix,  and 
how  am  I  to  get  out  of  it  ?  " 
24 


370  THE  RED  HOUSE. 

"Where  does  the  father-in-law  live?"  one  of  my  school- 
fellows, less  crafty  and  far-sighted  than  the  rest,  carelessly 
asked. 

"There  is  no  longer  a  father-in-law  in  the  case!"  I  ex- 
claimed. "  A  while  ago  my  conscience  spoke  sufficiently 
plain  to  make  your  verdict  superfluous.  And  if  it  speaks 
more  uncertainly  to-day,  here  are  the  inducements  that  led 
me  to  waver.  Here  is  the  tempter — this  letter  that  I  received 
two  months  ago ;  and  I  drew  a  card  from  my  pocket-book 
and  held  it  up : 

"  'You  are  requested  to  be  present?  so  it  ran,  '  at  the  funeral 
and  burial  service  of 

M.  JEAN-FREDERIC  TAILLEFER, 

of  the  firm  of  Taillefer  and  Company,  sometime  contractor  of 
provisions  to  the  Army,  late  Chevalier  of  the  Legion  of  Honor 
and  of  the  Order  of  the  Golden  Spur,  Captain  of  the  First  Com- 
pany of  Grenadiers  of  the  National  Guard,  Paris :  who  died  on 
May  ist,  at  his  house  in  the  Rue  Joubert.  The  interment  will 
take  place"  and  so  forth,  and  so  forth.  '  On  behalf  of,'  and 
so  forth. 


"  What  am  I  to  do  now  ?  "  I  continued.  "  I  will  just  put 
the  question  roughly  before  you.  There  is  unquestionably  a 
pool  of  blood  on  Mile.  Taillefer's  estates.  Her  father's  prop- 
erty is  one  vast  Aceldama.  Granted !  But,  then,  Prosper 
Magnan  has  no  representatives,  and  I  could  not  find  any  traces 
of  the  family  of  the  pin-maker  who  was  murdered  that  night 
at  Andernach.  To  whom  should  the  fortune  be  returned  ? 
And  ought  it  all  to  be  returned  ?  Have  I  any  right  to  betray 
a  secret  discovered  by  accident,  to  add  a  severed  human  head 
to  an  innocent  girl's  marriage  portion,  to  give  her  ugly  dreams, 


THE  RED  HOUSE.  371 

to  destroy  her  pleasant  illusions,  to  kill  the  father  she  loved  a 
second  time,  by  telling  her  that  there  is  a  dark  stain  on  all 
her  wealth  ? 

"  I  have  borrowed  a  '  Dictionary  of  Cases  of  Conscience ' 
from  an  old  ecclesiastic,  and  found  therein  no  solution  what- 
ever of  my  doubts.  Can  you  make  a  religious  foundation  for 
the  souls  of  Prosper  Magnan  and  Walhenfer  and  Taillefer  now 
midway  through  this  nineteeth  century  of  ours  ?  And  as  for 
endowing  a  charitable  institution  or  awarding  periodic  prizes 
to  virtue — most  of  our  charitable  institutions  appear  to  me  to 
be  harboring  scoundrels,  and  the  prize  of  virtue  would  fall  to 
the  greatest  rogues. 

"  And  not  only  so.  Would  these  investments,  more  or  less 
gratifying  to  vanity,  be  any  reparation  ?  And  is  it  my  place 
to  make  any?  Then  I  am  in  love,  passionately  in  love.  My 
love  has  come  to  be  my  life.  If,  without  any  apparent  reason, 
I  propose  that  a  young  girl,  accustomed  to  splendor  and  ele- 
gance, and  a  life  abundant  in  all  the  luxuries  art  can  devise, 
a  girl  who  indolently  enjoys  Rossini's  music  at  the  Bouffons — 
if  to  her  I  should  propose  that  she  should  rob  herself  of  fif- 
teen hundred  thousand  francs  for  the  benefit  of  aged  imbeciles 
and  problematical  scrofula  patients,  she  would  laugh  and  turn 
her  back  upon  me,  or  her  confidante  would  take  me  for  a  wag 
who  makes  jokes  in  poor  taste.  If  in  an  ecstasy  of  love  I 
extol  the  charms  of  humble  life  in  a  cottage  by  the  Loire,  if 
I  ask  her  to  give  up,  for  my  sake,  her  life  in  Paris,  it  would 
be  a  virtuous  lie  to  begin  with,  and  probably  would  end  in  a 
sad  experience  for  me,  for  I  shall  lose  the  girl's  heart ;  she  is 
passionately  fond  of  dancing  and  of  pretty  dresses,  and  for 
the  time  being,  of  me.  Enter  some  smart  stripling  of  an  offi- 
cer with  a  nicely-curled  mustache,  who  shall  play  the  piano, 
rave  about  Byron,  and  mount  a  horse  gracefully,  and  I  shall 
be  supplanted.  What  is  to  be  done?  Gentlemen,  advise 
me,  for  pity's  sake  !  " 

Then  one  of  the  party,  who  hitherto  had  not  breathed  a 


372 


THE  RED  HOUSE. 


word,  the  Englishman  with  a  Puritanical  cast  of  face,  not  un- 
like the  father  of  Jeanie  Deans,  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Idiot  that  you  were,"  he  said.     "What  made  you  ask 
him  if  he  came  from  Beauvais?" 

PARIS,  May,  1831. 


UCSB   LIBKAKI 

' 


UC  Southern  Regional  Library  Facilit 


A     000  525  464     4 


